Thomas Shelby Imagines

Labour

Tommy grinned as Harry set the champagne that had been set aside ready to wet the baby's head. The Shelby boys drank and cheered, each one congratulating Tommy and waiting for Esme to come and fetch him.

Tommy became impatient, setting his drink down and lighting a cigarette, he wanted to go and check if you were fine. He left his drunken brothers and headed to your apartment, letting himself in despite being shooed into the kitchen, as he listened to everything going on in the next room.

"Tommy." Esme called and beckoned him into the room you were in. He pushed past her and hurried over to you, kneeling next to you as you smiled wearily.

"Hey sweetheart, I know I'm supposed to still be at the pub but I couldn't stay away." He murmured to you as he stroked your cheek.

Once he'd forced his eyes away from you he looked down to your arms, tears welling in his eyes as he locked eyes with the infant in your arms. He stared with a satisfied pride, his thumb skimmed the child's cheek as he pulled the blanket around the child.

"He's healthy." Poll said from behind him.

"Another Shelby man." Tommy muttered making you smile at his happy expression. "He's perfect."

Tommy pressed a kiss to your forehead, accepting a seat, as he settled in for the night. He didn't leave your side, hurrying around the apartment to get you whatever you needed, reminding you every few minutes that he loved you as he either woke you up or stroked your hair till you fell asleep.