peaky blinders imagines

the moon and his stars; tommy shelby

Carrying a tune was never your strong suit, so it wasn't the worst thing in the world that the nine-piece swing band behind you had faded into background noise.
It was hard to appreciate the music when Tommy was in front of you, eyes soft and mouth almost smiling, just an hour and a half after he had become your husband.
"Shall we dance, Mrs. Shelby?" He asked, rock hard ice eyes fading into a blue sea as you reached out and caressed his cheek.
"We shall," you replied, letting him take your hand and lead you out onto the floor.
The band struck up a slower tune, trumpets fading into saxophones fading into clarinet, as your husband drew you close and whirled you around and around.
His forehead was close to yours but just far enough away not to touch, far enough that you could perceive a slight eye roll when Arthur called out some obscene remark to you two.
"Are you having fun?" He inquired, voice a low murmur in your ear, vibrating against your earrings.
"Yes," you told him. "I ought to be, I've been agonizing over this day for ten months."
He chuckled lowly, placing a kiss to your forehead.
"And what a lovely job you did with the whole affair."
You looked around the room and noted yes, the sleepless nights and bouts of panic you'd endured while planning your holy matrimony had been more than worth it; the hall you were holding the reception in was gorgeous, and you didn't think you'd ever seen a smile on every single Shelby's face at the same time before.
When you glanced back over to Tommy he was smiling at you, a genuine ear to ear grin that lasted only for a split second but which made your heart glow.
He twirled you around, coat-tails flaring as your dress made a wide arc around you, the black and white of your apparel making you seem from above like the moon on a starless night.
He pulled you ever closer, let you drop your forehead to his shoulder, and allowed himself a slight smile at a wolf whistle that could've come from either Michael or Isaiah; you didn't quite care to notice.
"I love you," he said, lips brushing against the nape of your neck.
"And I you, Tommy Shelby."
He didn't quite smile this time but his face seemed to grow with light, eyes shining into yours as a lone saxophone made itself apparent to you, its slow but sweet sounds a perfect metaphor for the way the man in front of you loved you.