Wish Me Luck - (Thomas Shelby x Pregnant Reader)

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Okay, so normally my pregnancy fics get quite fluffy, but for some reason, this one isn't. I mean, there's fluff, it's just not drowning in it. It's more angsty.

Word count: 1245

Warnings: A bit of angst, mostly on Tommy's behalf.

A/N: Please feel free to send me a message or comment, I would love to know what you think.

A/N: Please feel free to send me a message or comment, I would love to know what you think

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Shit. Were you going to get a lecture for this. And what a spirited, angry and passionate lecture it would be, even if you knew it came from a place of utter devotion and love. Devotion and love, not just for you... but for the life you nurtured inside. And yet, with a tinge of guilty pleasure, you smiled softly. Because, before the lecture began there would be lots of fussing and kissing and gentle fingertips searching your body for harm, and the thought appealed to you. Appealed to you in a rather reprehensible way. For without a doubt, right now, Tommy would be beside himself. His mind an incoherent mess, already imagining the worst possible scenario, his chest like a tightly wired spring, unable to unravel and breathe until he saw you safe with his own two eyes.

You don't know what spooked the damn horse. Until today, he had always been such a sweet and mild-mannered boy, and that's why you chose him. One minute he was walking along, as calm and steady as any other day, the most reliable and predictable horse you had ever had the pleasure of riding. The next minute he bolted off, taking you completely by surprise, your hands slipping from the reins and your balance thrown off centre, sending you tumbling to the ground.

Never would you have gone riding if it wasn't safe to do so, you weren't stupid. Your belly was still soft and pliable, the new life growing inside yet to display its presence. And so, the danger to your unborn was less than minimal. Once your belly grew round and hard, you would stop, not willing to risk a fall directly upon the precious cargo inside. Nevertheless, Tommy didn't quite see it the same way, and your recent fall would certainly not help your case, not to mention the fact that you told him you wouldn't go riding today. But as your morning sickness faded and the blue sky grew brighter, you couldn't help yourself. It was such a perfect day, not to be wasted inside, and the moment you stepped into the garden with a novel in your hands, the irresistible smell of the fresh hay and stables reached your nose, making your decision for you.

Leaning down, the stable hand placed you gingerly on the edge of the sofa in Tommy's office, after carrying you all the way from the paddock. Slipping his arms from underneath you, he took a step back, uncomfortable at being in such close proximity to his boss' wife, his concern evident, probably worried that Tommy would berate him, maybe even sack him for saddling up the horse for you.

With a stubborn edge to both your expression and tone, you thanked him, "I really could have made it back in on my own... But thank you all the same."

The poor man, who looked barely out of childhood, replied, concern still evident in his voice, "It's best you keep off that ankle, Mrs Shelby."

With a softer smile, you tried easing away some of the creases etched across his forehead, "I will, thank you. But you better go catch that horse before my husband gets back. And don't worry, I'll make sure he understands you took no part in my little adventure."

Hesitant to leave you alone, but eager to do as you said, relief flooded his features when Frances walked through the door, dismissing him with a nod of her head. Moving to your side, she spoke as she helped lift your legs up on the sofa, "I called Mr Shelby, he is on his way. And at his request, I've sent for the doctor."

Rolling your eyes, you winced as she moved your ankle to rest on some cushions, already feeling how swollen it was inside your riding boot, "It's just a sprained ankle, I don't need a doctor."

Frances looked you directly in the eyes, her lips pursed and brows raised as if to say, 'You do realise who you are married to, don't you?' And it was a valid point, you knew even if you walked away from the fall without a scratch, he would want the doctor to check you over. But instead of saying so, Frances smiled gently, it was almost sentimental, "He can't help it, you know... That man loves you far more than you realise."

Sitting down on the chair beside you, she waited for Tommy to arrive, knowing better than to leave you alone until he walked through his office door. He would be thinking all manners of unthinkable things... unconsciousness, concussion, internal bleeding... however, she didn't need to wait very long. Within five minutes, you both heard his automobile come screaming up the driveway, his foot on the pedal clearly pushing the poor engine to its limits. And even from your seat on the sofa, you could hear how the tires teared up the gravel as it came to a sudden stop outside the entrance, just seconds before the sound of his boots echoed loudly in the hallway.

With a deep intake of air, you mumbled to Frances as she stood to her feet, "Here we go... wish me luck." With that Tommy hurled himself through the doorway and Frances excused herself without a word.

Tommy's eyes, wide with angst, found you immediately. You smiled awkwardly in an attempt to put him at ease, but it did nothing. Before you even had time to speak a word, he was kneeling at your side, his intense gaze searching you over as his fingertips gently followed, "Are you alright... where are you hurt?"

Stupidly, you readjusted yourself on the sofa, your foot slipping from the cushions. You hissed involuntarily at the burning pain, the sound seemingly bringing discomfort to every feature of his face. Wrapping your hand around his wrist, you assured him, "I'm fine Tommy." Then lifting his hand, you rested his palm gently against your belly, your fingertips running back and forth across his knuckles, "We're both fine... it was just my ankle, I think I've sprained it."

For the most part, relief flooded his crystal blue eyes, that relief manifesting upon his lips, kissing you, as his hands tangled amongst your hair. Coming up for air he rested his forehead against yours, his fingertips still tangled at the nape of your neck. Inhaling deeply, as if to lose himself in the scent of you, his whole body began to slowly unwind beneath your reassuring touch. It was both heaven and hell, all at once. The love you felt rolling off of him in that single moment, was almost overwhelming, and you soaked up every second of it. But with it came a rising tide of guilt. You hated knowing you were the cause of all his angst and worry. Enveloping his cheeks in your palms, you moved his head back to see his beautiful eyes, your own filled with regret, "I'm sorry Tommy... I shouldn't have-"

Tommy cut you short when the doctor announced his arrival with a knock upon the office door, "Shhh, love." Kissing you on top of the head he stood to his feet, his expression soft and yet somehow foreboding, You knew you were not going to get away with this so easily. Leaning back down, he spoke quietly against your ear, "You've been saved by the bell for now... but don't worry, I'll have plenty to say about this later."

"

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