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evita-shelby · 1 year ago

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Garden of Eden

Part iii

Cw: infidelity, mentions of sex, drama lots of fucking drama

Gif by @crackshipandcrap

Heaven Shelby is @call-sign-shark oc

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Gabriel has his distinctive features( and her coloring)and his premature birth is what moved his father’s heart to forgive her finally.

“I love you.” He had said without a hint of resentment or distrust. “Always have and always will.”

“We’re a match made in hell, Tom.” Eva had kissed him again as they enjoyed the quiet peace in her hospital room.

The witch doesn’t know who was more terrified, Eva who had never had a baby come earlier than the cards said or Tommy who had been about to tell her something before her back pain became a contraction.

As much as she is loath to admit it, this baby saved her marriage.

If it hadn’t been for him, Eva doesn’t know what would be of her knowing the wedding band on her finger won’t come off unless she’s dead.

But it’s easy to ignore the chains when you are happy, and she is happy with her children and her husband as her world tilts itself back into its right place in the months after Gabriel's birth.

Tommy ---unsurprisingly--- wins his election and had Eva cared about the feelings of the women he used like knives to hurt her; she would’ve been nicer to Jessie Eden who rounded up every communist to vote for him.

They are to celebrate this great achievement with a party they won’t forget.

Arthur and Heaven will be there.

And because she is coming, Tommy has decided he must stake his claim on his witch.

“Did you have to bite me?” Eva asks relieved to know no one will see it in the sexy number she’s gotten for the occasion.

“No one else but me is gonna be looking at you down there, Evie. If you’re a good girl for daddy, I’ll kiss it better when its over.” He said, burying his face in her stomach as they came down from that high she’d never trade for anything.

She had missed this, missed his neediness and unconditional trust and love.

As much as she had loved Heaven, she loved Tommy more.

Tommy was her soulmate; she couldn’t exist without him just as he couldn’t exist without her.

“Might lose a fork and return the favor during dinner.” She muttered and he agreed she should do it, mentioning with great fondness all those times he’d been handling business and she’d suck his prick like the good wife she is.

During one of the first campaign dinners, she’d snuck under the table and reminded him how good she was with her wicked mouth.

Eva had jokingly said she had gotten a sudden craving only he could satisfy and to this day she can’t look at white floor-length tablecloths without getting hot.

“I can lie and say we got a call from the American offices, that will give us all the time we need.” Her husband said as this pregame ritual ended.

They never got to do that.

Despite the awkwardness of two ex-lovers seeing each other and their husbands feeling the pinpricks of jealousy and other insecurities, the party is going fine.

Something is going make it all go to hell and Eva can’t relax because it has this feeling telling her it will be an unforgettable affair.

“You feel it too?” the French witch asks in her native language so only they ---and Thomas--- know what’s going on.

The last time she had a bad feeling this strong, she was shot by an Italian hired by Section D.

But everything is going great, too great. Like the calm before the storm.

In her anxiety, Eva bumps into someone and gets wine spilled all over her dress. Maybe it was that the witch thinks as she went upstairs to change.

But then Frances quietly pulled her aside saying a woman had come asking for her and her alone.

“Miss Stark is here.” Frances warns as she leads her to the kitchen and servant’s entrance and her wet dress forgotten.

This was the bad thing.

She knows it.

The witch knows exactly why Lizzie had the nerve to show up here after destroying their friendship by fucking her husband while their marriage was on the skids.

She knows what is waiting for her in the kitchen and yet Eva tells herself it might be something else.

And yet, Lizzie Stark stands there with a baby maybe a few weeks older than Gabe.

A little girl with a ruby red blanket with her name stitched on by Polly’s neat hand.

Eva hasn’t had a fainting spell in some years and suddenly it all came crashing down.

When she comes to, it takes Heaven and Ada to keep her from murdering Polly.

“You knew! You knew! You knew!” the witch seethed as the realization dawns on those gathered in the kitchens.

She had been brought upstairs, Lizzie taken to the cottage where the rest of the family stayed when they visited, and some lie is told to keep their guests none the wiser.

After her episode where she nearly throttled Polly, Polly who she trusted like an older sister, Polly who never kept a thing from her, she and tommy are left alone in their room.

“Evie, sweetheart.” He tries to calm her down, but she pushed him away feeling disgust at his touch. “I tried, but I---”

“But what, you knew you wouldn’t have a fucking leg to stand on when you made me beg for your love all those months.” The witch scoffed as she dried her tears and poured herself a glass of water and felt it shatter in her hands when her anger breaks it.

“I wanted to tell you, believe me, but I, I didn’t want to lose you.” He said justifying his fucking lies.

“She had a child, your child, Thomas!” Eva reminds him with a hiss.

In comparison to his fuck up, her fuck up looks minimal.

And it had been, Eva had not treated him differently, loved him just as she always did even when she escaped to Pebblebrock with Heaven for a weekend or two.

Lizzie had told him the day he called her to his office, and he’d told her it was over.

Lizzie had become his mistress because it hurt Eva. Lizzie had been amongst her first friends in Small Heath and that betrayal had hurt her enough to demand she never set foot in her house ever again.

Lizzie had held on to those feelings for him she had always had, and he used her weakness to hurt Eva.

Evie and I are going to give us another try; he had said looking at the coin that led him to his witch, we’re having another baby.

Tom, I’m pregnant, she had said in response.

Only Polly knew about Ruby and that picturesque cottage far away from Arrow, Warwickshire, Lizzie didn’t lack for anything.

She was free to live her own life and maybe one day Ruby would know her father and her half-siblings, or if her mother wanted to, have a better man to call father and not the fucker who only used her mother.

He had tried to tell her. He was going to that day Gabe was born, but he lost his nerve when he saw her look at him with the same adoration and love she had for him when Charlie and Diane had been born.

How could he ruin everything when they were finally happy again.

“I’m sorry, Evie.” He chokes on his words because he knows this is something she may not forgive.

Her affair didn’t result in a fucking child with his friend.

Her affair wasn’t the result of deliberate cruelty.

“If I wanted to leave, would you let me go?” she asks, and he stays silent.

The answer is no.

Tommy would never let her go, he’d rather kill her and himself than live a moment where Eva isn’t his nor he isn’t hers.

Even when he cheated on her to hurt her, his heart nor mind could ever entertain thoughts of letting her go and start anew with anyone else.

“We’re a match made in hell, love.” He said coming to sit beside her on their bed and cleaning up the mess he caused.

Whatever price she wanted him to pay, he’d pay it gladly.

One day she’d forgive him, just as he’d forgiven her.

#eva smith shelby #tommy shelby x oc #arthur shelby x ofc #heaven shelby #garden of eden fic

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midnightswithdearkatytspb · 2 years ago

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“Fear, that is what he felt. Every single day, 'cause all the boys would play. Don't you dare be weak, emasculated freak. Last up on the fence, tell me where's the sense? // It's okay to be not okay. It's just fine to be out of your mind. Breathe in deep, just a day at a time. 'Cause it's okay to be out of your mind. // I don't want this body, I don't want this voice. I don't wanna be here but I guess I have no choice. Just let me live my truth, that's all I wanna do. Baby, you're not broken, just a little bit confused.” — Imagine Dragons • “It’s Ok”

“Arthur, I love you on your good days and on your bad days. You need someone to show you that it will be okay, even when you feel it won’t be okay. Even I have my dark days, where I don’t want to get out of bed, and that’s okay. As long as we realize we must live for tomorrow and each other.” Arthurs angel put her forehead against his and kissed him as his tears started to dry.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is it’s okay not to be okay and fuck what others think, my love. As long as we have each other, we can be a little not okay together.” Arthur scoffed and pulled his angel in, kissing her full force. Being a little out of his mind with her wouldn’t be so bad as long as she was at his side.

#my moodboards #arthur shelby #arthur shelby moodboard #arthur shelby x ofc #arthur shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders moodboard #moodboards #ktk post #lyrics #music #imagine dragons #it’s ok imagine dragons #it’s ok

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brummiereader · 10 months ago

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@peakyswritings stunning moodboard Reb 😍! I really love the tone you have set, and it's mirroring of the text. In ways it looks angelic and pure, but there is a very eerie feel to it with the added crimson red blood and otherworldly aspect. Gorgeous ❤️!

Those who happen to cross her path might mistake her for an Angel. And an Angel she seems, with her icy glare and snow-white hair cascading on her diaphanous skin. An Angel she seems, when her enchanting voice reverberates through the majestic walls of an empty church, when her spring-like perfume lingers in the air as she walks by with steps so light one may think she’s a mere figment of imagination. Heaven. The name of holiness and all things sacred. But no sacred creature has a crimson stream endlessly flowing behind them like an extension of their own shadow. No Angel has that much blood dripping from their hands. A fallen Angel, perhaps. Or a Devil.

Moodboard made for @call-sign-shark ‘s OC Heaven Lavey Shelby. If you want to know more about Heaven, check out Shark’s series Heaven in Your Eyes, I promise it’s a masterpiece.

Happy double birthday, Shark🎉🤍. This was the little something I was making for Heaven I told you about, and I decided to give it to you on your birthday as a little gift. I hope you like it🤍

#sharks birthday 🎈#arthur shelby #arthur shelby x ofc #arthur shelby x reader #peaky blinders moodboard #peaky blinders

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muneca-lemon-steppa · 7 months ago

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hello!!! hope you’re doing great, I kinda wanna ask about Thomas x Sister Shelby if you do that ? And if you do I’m thinking she’d be smart, has a very quick tongue and she wants to get out of the Shelby business to marry the love of her life (alfie😝😍) so she fakes her death and ofc everyone is distraught and angry than after a few years Thomas sees alfie at his home and than comes his sister who he thought had died and he berates her than she says something like you’re a worse person than me always killing for money like he can’t live without a war. Also I am in the mood for a very angst ending

A/N: Hello my love! How are you doing? I am so so sorry that this has taken forever. Truthfully, I had no clue how to do this. I thought about this long an hard, and though some things I switched up, I hope you enjoy this. I feel like this got me to stretch my writing muscles, and it was really fun. Let me know what you think darling!

Run Away With Me Darling

Alfie Solomons x Fem! Reader; 3.8k words; fluff, angst

Warnings: language, contentious family relationships, arranged marriage???

It started innocently enough.

You bringing tea and biscuits to meeting rooms where the men started their schemes. Listening and taking notes alongside your ever watchful Aunt Polly. Sneaking glances at the big brute in the chair across from your big brothers.

“Thank you treacle. Yeah that’s real kind of you.”

That brute is the only man that would say thank you for the tea you bring by. And when you go to pour more for him, he’s the only man who says, “No need for that darling. Grown men can pour their own tea yeah?”

It wasn’t meant to be anything more than professional. But you should’ve known. Known from that first encounter outside those Shelby walls… you and Mr. Solomons shared a single soul… and heaven nor hell could keep you from each other’s grasp.

It was hot. London is not a tropical city by any means. But the sheer amount of bodies, activity, and warm rain, had transformed the city into a sauna. The wisps of your hair along your neck and forehead are plastered to your body. Rivulets of sweat sneak down your chest. The heat could only be described as oppressive. You were counting down the steps till you could go home.

On the one hand… it was strange having a home all to yourself. Truthfully, it was the Shelby homestead in London, where the family would stay when business needed attending to. However, when they all left, you stayed. Carrying delicate messages. Keeping a close pulse on the going’s on of the city. And perhaps most importantly… remaining a pretty show pony for the Shelby family.

You hated to admit it. But you were desperately jealous of Ada. She had the guts to sneak past Arthur, Tommy, and John. She had the foresight to marry her true love before Tommy could marry her off to the highest bidder. You had no such luck. No childhood love. No sweetheart to campaign for. The boys had made sure of it. Despite Ada and your protests, and Polly’s discrete ploys; Tommy had decided. The sweet, pure, and innocent youngest Shelby girl will be auctioned off to the richest and most lucrative partner for the Shelby Company. And she will remain pretty and docile. A prize.

The mere thought made your stomach twist and churn and burn.

You loved them. Your family. More than most love their family. But you could barely breathe under their watch. Even in another city you felt the reach of their eyes. Felt the whisperings of potential matches for your hand and womb. The sweat on your brow burned your eyes. Taking place of the unshed tears you long abandoned.

All you longed for was cold water. A cool bath. Anything to scrub off the sweat and dirt and exhaustion. However, shade covered your front door, casting a shadow over the threshold.

“Sweetheart! Been waiting a bit for you!”

No matter where you see Mr. Solomons, he seems to take up all the space. You don’t know how he is able to stand the heat, with his coat and hat and bushy beard. But he looks unfettered. Cool even. You finally felt the kiss of the breeze on your neck as you approached.

“Mr. Solomons. How can I help you?”

“You going to invite me in like a good girl?”

“I’m not in the business of inviting strange men into my home.”

“You think me strange?”

“Oh Mr. Solomons you are the strangest man I’ve ever met.”

“Makes you a little excited though don’t it? A hint of danger yeah? Big brute standing at your door.”

You stuck your chin out, staring directly into his stormy eyes. “I’m not afraid of you Mr. Solomons.”

His mouth quirks up in the corner. A twinkle in his eyes, and your breath hitched as he leaned into your space, “Oh I know sweet. You ain’t like the others ain’t ya? I saw it… the first time I laid eyes on you I knew you were different. Those boys… cold blooded little snakes… you… nah… there’s a flame in you treacle…and I look forward to see you set things aflame.”

Before you could respond in any way, he leaned away, smiling at your response. He pulled out an envelope from his coat and handed it to you, “Contract and information for your devious brother my sweet. Don’t worry, put a little something in there for you too for your trouble.”

You snatched the envelope from his hand. Unsure of how to respond to his… behavior. His rumbling laugh set a shiver down your spine, but you pushed it down as you appraised him, “This seems below your job description… don’t you have messenger boys?”

He further smirked, “I hope you’ll forgive me, that I want to keep you to myself.”

“I’m not a kept girl.”

“That you are not. Just have to inform your brothers of the fact don’t you?”

Hot shame rose in your cheeks. The envelope in your hands crinkling sharply. You felt the cool brush of gold rings on your cheek, “I have a standing dinner every Thursday evening. Let it be our little secret, hmm?”

Before you could react, a coarse kiss is pressed to your knuckles. As he started walking away, you called out, “And if I don’t show up? What then?”

He turned, with a boyish smile, “You’re not a kept woman treacle. Not my business. I’ll just send my messenger boys in my place.”

That was a year ago. Things were so simple then. Secret dinners. Secret mornings. Secret dalliances and outings around town. And when the family came to town, you placed that mask back on. Sweet, innocent, and docile Shelby girl. Ready at the beck and call of her family. And when they left, you ran right into the arms of Alfie. Because where it all started as something to feel disobedient, it grew into something deeper and more ancient. You felt your soul intertwine with his, as if it was always searching for him. In the evenings when he whispered his love for you and kept you close, you had never felt safer. Never felt more alive.

But dreams are not forever. Sooner or later the bubble must pop.

“You’ll need to come back to Birmingham dearest.”

“For how long?”

Everyone looked up at Tommy. Tommy didn’t even look up from his dinner plate, “Permanently. I’ve got a husband for you.”

Your fork dropped. Your heart stopped beating.

You faintly hear Aunt Polly call your name.

“Husband?” You whispered.

Tommy sighed, “That is what I said. High time you married, you’re old enough. Mr. Gorman has multiple factories both here and in the states, and his son is set to inherit them all. It’s a good match, it’ll be very beneficial to the company.”

“Tommy I don’t even know him.”

“You have your entire life to get to know him. Now finish your dinner.”

“So you just decided is that it? You just decided to that I’d belong to some man? Tell me Tommy… how much did you sell me off for? How much is my womb worth?”

“Watch your mouth!” Polly hissed, with Arthur wincing at the cutting words.

“I’m not going.” You stood from your chair. Preparing for battle.

“It’s not up for discussion.”

“I’m not going! You cannot make me!”

Tommy rose from his seat, John putting his head in his hands with Arthur knocking back a drink. Low. Deadly. Tommy always could command a room with his voice. Cold finger pointing at you like a deadly weapon. “You will do as you’re told. This is not about you. This is about the family. In a week, I will come fetch you. I will drag you back to Birmingham if I have to. And you will marry the young Mr. Gorman, and you will have as many of his fucking babies as he chooses. You will be rich. You will be safe. And you will be set. I am not about to argue with a child.”

You felt the tears well up in your eyes. Sorrow. Mourning. Hatred. “I hate you Thomas Shelby. I hate you.”

“You will get over it.”

You ran to your room. Weeping the rest of the night.

Because how can your body and name be given to a man, when your heart and soul belonged to another?

They left the next morning. Arthur knocking on your door to announce the departure, and trying to convince you, “He’s a good lad darling. Trust Tommy alright? Wouldn’t let nothing bad happen to ya, even though it seems like right shit. Don’t be too angry at us. We’ll all still be close. And anyway… it’s what’s good for the family.”

You didn’t look at him. Not even a hum of acknowledgment when he kissed your hair tenderly. A regretful sigh leaves his body as Arthur walked away, taking one last look at your quivering body on your maiden bed. Arthur always had a soft spot for you. Always defensive for you unlike your other siblings. He had tried in vain to get Tommy to rethink the arrangement. You didn't need to get married. The company didn't need such an alliance. They'd get by as they always have. But Tommy's sights were set much higher. He wanted that name of honor. And to get it, he was willing to play by the rules of old money. Tommy had convinced Arthur enough. Enough that you'd eventually forgive them all.

The orange sky illuminated your bedroom in a bloody hue. Your throat dry and head hot and pounding. The creaking and settling of the house had become a steady ring in your ears, you didn't even hear the bedroom door open.

"Treacle. What are you doing? Eden said you haven't left since last night. You ill?"

Maids hear everything, you think bitterly. But you couldn't be too cross with Eden. Not really.

"He's done it Alfie."

Alfie toed off his boots after the hat and coat. Sinking into the too ornate duvet. "Who treacle? What happened?"

You faced him, deep creases of the duvet threads divide your hot wet cheeks. Lashes clumped together and soaked. "Tommy... he... he finally did it. He's married me off. In a weeks time I'm to belong to some... Mr. Gorman. His father owns factories, and I suppose that's enough for my bride price."

You feel your body being gently tugged up and into Alfie’s embrace. Despite any protest from you about how it may affect his back, he shushes you instantly, “Now now my little dove. Nah you ain’t going back to Birmingham. You ain’t getting married to some prick. Nah you’re staying here with ol’ Alfie.”

You force your face under his chin, letting his unkempt beard absorb your sobs, “No Alfie it’s true! Tommy told me yesterday at dinner! He… he’s taking me away Alfie! I hate him. I hate him so much. I don’t want to marry some man I don’t even know!”

“I already told you darling, you’re not going to! It’s not happening.”

You push his shoulder, “You’re not listening to me! Tommy said-“

“I don’t give a shit what Tommy said! You’re not marrying the shit because you’re marrying me!”

Like an unpracticed magician, he pulled out a gorgeous diamond and sapphire ring. Its glimmer and fractals made it look as endless as the night sky. You felt the breath in your lungs catch, anger and fear simmering down and cooling. You dared not touch something to precious, “Alfie Solomons…”

“Was my mother’s. Gave it to me when I came back from the war. On her death bed. Made me swear that I wouldn’t give it up for any pretty girl on the street. Had to give it to the one.”

You struggled to meet his gaze, “And I-“

“The one treacle. If you’ll have me.”

He shifted you in his lap, fully facing him, “Now… I had a whole event planned out. Garden stroll. Drinks. Music playing. And I know I’m a sorry old monster and you have loads of suitor-“

“Alfie-“

“But I swear on my life treacle, you’ll never want for anything. You will have freedom to do whatever you would hope to do. We’ll go anywhere. I’ll love you till the stars go out-“

“Alfie! Yes! Yes yes yes! I’ll marry you! You silly old man!”

You pushed him back and kissed him fiercely. With all the passion you had been hiding from your family for years. Until the acidic burn of reality came down, “But what about Tommy? Alfie you hate each other, he’ll never let me go.”

Rough hands running up and down your thighs, gazing in awe at the fiery halo surrounding you. “I was willing to go in and threaten blessing or death.”

“I won’t have you put in danger for love. This isn’t Shakespeare.”

With a laugh and kiss to your fingertips he whispers, “You got any ideas? I’m all ears.”

You try to think, but kept coming across a wall. Any option you thought of ended in bloodshed. You fell into the bed next to Alfie, curling into his chest, “I wish we could just run away.”

His arms tighten around you, “What if we did?”

It would happen three days before Tommy would come to fetch you. You dismissed Eden with an oath to secrecy, and for four days you played the part of excited bride to be. Purchasing things for a new marital home, a wedding dress and new wardrobe. Who cares if the detail of the lucky husband was slightly off?

Whenever your family called, you lied happily through your smiling teeth. At first you felt a twinge of guilt. But in the end, they stood by as your brothers sold you off. They lost the right to the truth. They hated Alfie, said as much any time they came to the house. They would never understand. They would never allow it. But this was your life. And you would be damned before you were cleaved from your beloved.

The men from the distillery made regular visits to the house in the middle of the night, picking up your things to take to Margate, dropping off love letters and updates from Alfie. With each passing day, your heart became lighter. The binds lessening. Freedom was right on your tongue.

Three days before Tommy, Arthur, and John are to pick you up, the horrific news explodes through Birmingham. The Shelby home in London: set ablaze. No survivors. The beautiful bride, burned alongside her wedding dress hanging in the window. The youngest Shelby girl, an angel amongst demons, taken too soon from the earth from a horrific accident. The fire so destructive, not even a body is there for a proper burial. Just ash and a memory of that sweet face. The funeral is horrible. Wailing and weeping from all of Birmingham. Aunt Polly could barely keep it together, blaming Tommy for it all. Even business acquaintances from London and beyond come to pay their respects. The most shocking visitor, was Mr. Solomons, who paid for the funeral itself, “I’m sorry Tommy for your loss. I really am. She was a sweet girl. But… she’s in a better place I’m sure.”

And what a better place that is. White washed home right on the beach, windows open at all times, with the sea breeze billowing pristine gossamer curtains in the wind. You spend your days reading and writing to your heart’s content, strolling the beach, playing with Cyril like a child. As Alfie settles affairs in Camden during the week, he visits during the weekend, serving and worshipping you like a goddess. He never gave you information about the family. You didn’t want it. That was your old life. A you that you couldn’t recognize. Here, in this life, you were free. Free to speak. Free to argue and give your mind.

After a month, Alfie permanently moves to Margate. Home. Retired from the gangster life with enough money to live comfortably for the rest of his life, with more than enough to comfort when he’s gone.

And the years pass blissfully. Just how it was in the beginning. Kisses and dancing and laughter and arguing and love and joy. 3 years of absolute heaven, you had nearly forgotten how it all was almost taken from you.

But the past does have a way of rearing its ugly head doesn’t it?

It’s the dawn of summer. The final kisses of spring bringing crisp clean air through your marital home. Alfie had never felt better. The pain in his body had long left him, only flaring during the coldest evenings. The dark circles under his eyes have dissolved. His face and body, fuller, firmer with the glowing health of a man at peace who works for life not death. You were upstairs, searching for the a particular spool of thread you had been working with for a blanket you had spent days on. But it needed to be done soon. Alfie shifted through the records you both had been collecting. Symphonies had become his special interest in the recent months, and he was looking for a particular composition that he felt would make your heart sing.

The heavy knock on the door sent the hair on his neck stand at attention.

Only one demon knocked like that.

His eyes shifted to the stairs. He could still hear you moving things around. Searching tirelessly for that spool. You’d be missing for a couple minutes. Enough to rebuke the vile creature from the door without your discovery.

With a deep breath, Alfie tries to remember the armor of his past. The Mad Baker. Just as another round of knocks was about to come, Alfie opened roughly, “Tommy! What are you doing here? Gates of hell need their master don’t they?”

He looked thinner than normal. It’s been years since the men had seen each other, but the difference was still shocking. Those icey blue eyes even more haunting than they were at the funeral. Gaunt cheeks and pale skin made him look like a living corpse. A flicker of a flame winked behind those eyes. Hope for another fight. Something to set him aflame. “Hello Alfie. Enjoying retirement?”

“Yeah actually I am so whatever you have up your sleeve I want no part in it so if you’ll just fuck off.”

Before Alfie could slam the door, Tommy stuck his foot in the door, “Not that simple Alfie. Worlds gone to shit and it needs Solomons to set it to right.”

“Your world not mine. Now get out.”

“I’m not going to leave until you let me in Alfie.”

Your angelic voice danced on the breeze down to the front door, “I found it! Alfie you would not believe where it was! I swear I’m losing my mind.”

Tommy’s face some how went paler. As if he heard Satan’s whisper of condemnation. Alfie tried to push the door closed, but with the strength of a mad man Tommy pushed past the threshold.

Tommy almost fainted.

This must be hell.

He must have died.

It’s the only rational idea.

God chose to lock him in the home of his biggest agitation, with the ghost of his dead baby sister.

But this couldn’t be your ghost. Your swollen belly proves this.

“Holy shit.” You drop the tea cup in your hands when you see Tommy. Tommy who wasn’t supposed to be here. Tommy who saw you buried and dead.

Alfie rushes in, pulling you behind his broad frame. Through his linen shirt, you feel the ragged breath and hammering heart of your husband. You feel faint. “Tommy… you need to leave right now.”

“You paid for the funeral.”

“Tommy we can do this later but you need to get out right now. I’m asking nicely.”

“You knew she was alive… you knew.”

“She is very delicate right now she does not need any excitement.”

“You fucking made her delicate! You compromised her you fucking bastard!”

You cried out as Tommy lunged for your husband, “Stop it Tommy! Enough! Get out of my house!”

Tommy stumbled, pointing at you, “You… you’re fucking sick. You’re demented! You caused Polly a near heart attack. You are disgusting!”

You push past Alfie, who is left watching, “I’m disgusting! You sold me off to some man. And for what? To get people to see you as a big man? Guess what Tommy, you will NEVER be good enough for them! They’ll always see people like us as trash! But you don’t care. Anything to get ahead right?! You’ll stoop as low as you need to ahead.”

Tommy laughed bitterly, holding back the urge to spit, “And what about you yeah? So spoiled that you throw the biggest tantrum of the century. Whore yourself out to the Mad Baker, and get knocked up with his bastard.”

“I’d stop talking if I were you Tommy.”, Alfie snarled darkly. Fists curling in. Like a wolf ready to devour.

“I’d rather be his whore than be a part of any family of yours. You can’t leave well enough alone. Murdering and slaughtering for some honor so quick to tarnish and fade away. You tried to lock me away, never taking a care to what I wanted or thought. But you can’t do that to me anymore. I’m a Solomons, and I carry his child. You can’t touch me.”

Tommy settled, steel washed over his face. “They have a right to know.”

“You all have a right to nothing. I’ll see the family when I’m good and ready.”

His eyes shift to Alfie, “You are evil incarnate. You are cursed.”

No sign of mirth reaches Alfie’s eyes when he smirks, “Careful Tommy. You know what they say about curses. Especially when you curse family.”

Without another word, Tommy storms out. As soon as the door slams, shaking the lamps, you let out the breath in your heavy lungs, “Holy Shit”.

Your knees give out from under you, and cold shakes roll through your body. Alfie grabbed your body, helping you into a chair. “Settle my love it’s alright he’s gone. What do you need? Baby ok?”

“No I’m ok thank you my love. I just… I need air. I can’t believe he came here. He knows. They all know.”

“Hush darling, breathe for me, settle your nerves, you don’t need to worry. They know but they can’t touch you. You’re my wife and they can’t get to you. You are your own woman. You are safe.”

“But what are we going to do. What if they come?”

“Then we’ll deal with them. I’ll have some boys come in, set up a watch. We won’t be caught off guard ever again.”

You nodded. Trusting the words of your husband. You felt an affirming kick in your ribs. The rushing of your heart. You had paradise for three years. You couldn’t run forever, no matter how far you got. The bell had finally tolled, and it was time to face it.

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x you #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x y/n #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders

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telumendilsoul · 18 days ago

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New Traditions (Tommy Shelby x OFC!Dorothea)

Summary: Dorothea has never celebrated Christmas before, and Tommy wants to change that.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OFC!Dorothea

Rating: G - Christmas cheer

Word Count: 891

A/N: This took a little longer to write because of my migraine and sickness, but I got it done. Katy’s Merry Write-A-Thon day 2

December had come, and with it, a cold chill that could be felt deep in one's bones in Small Heath, the smell of coal lingering in its air. For Tommy Shelby, the holiday season suddenly came up, and it meant obligations to his family and businesses that never slept. This year, though it was different, Tommy had Dorothea.

Dorothea was unlike anyone he had ever known, with her long red locks, soft smile, and quiet grace he hadn’t quite seen in anyone before. Dorothea became the most pleasant presence in his life, and Tommy realized he needed her. She wasn’t from Birmingham, nor was she from the world Tommy inhabited, but he grew to love the way Dorothea made him feel grounded while the world around him was out of control.

This Christmas was going to be different for both Tommy and Dorothea. As she had told Tommy earlier in the year, her family didn’t celebrate the upcoming holiday. There had been no trees, no stockings filled with candy, no warmth around the family fireplace—just an entirely unexceptional December. Quite different from the Shelby family tradition of Christmas—a lively family affair filled with smoke in the air, whiskey, and family loyalty.

Tommy shared the Shelby family traditions held at Arrow House with Dorothea this Christmas. Dorothea had hesitated initially, unsure how she would fit into Tommy’s world, a world she had never known. She asked him more than a few times what she should expect. Tommy, always blunt, looked at her and said, “Expect mayhem, Dorothea. Expect the unexpected.”

It was the night before Christmas. Tommy sat in the grand sitting room, taking in the lavish Christmas decorations his staff had decorated, embracing the anticipation of what was to come. His brothers were already there—Arthur pacing the room, John chatting with Polly about gifts for the little ones, and Finn, the youngest, sneaking a drink from the whiskey decanter. Dorothea had yet to arrive.

Dorothea was always one to arrive fashionably late. Tommy had told her to come by five. He’d never been one for tradition, but Tommy felt this holiday was important and wanted to share a part of his family with her, even if it felt slightly foreign.

Just as the clock struck six, the front door opened, and Dorothea stepped inside, instantly softening the room. She wore a velvet red dress resembling red wine. Her cheeks flushed from cold, and her hair lay in soft waves off her shoulders. There was a nervousness in her eyes, but Tommy could see how she looked at him—a silent understanding that they were about to create new traditions together.

A soft smile graced Dorothea's lips. “Tommy,” her voice was just a whisper. I hope I’m not too late.”

“No,” Tommy replied, placing a kiss on her lips. “You’re right on time.”

Leading Dorothea towards his family, he introduced her to Polly, Arthur, and the others, who all welcomed her with warmth and boisterously like the Shelbys they were. Dorothea was her polite and kind self, but there was a quietness about her, almost as though she was still unsure how she fit in.

“Don’t you worry about a thing,” Polly said, gently guiding Dorothea to the dinner table. “You’ll be used to the madness in no time.”

The evening unfolded with an almost chaotic joy. Arthur’s loud laugh filled the room, John cracked jokes, and Finn kept sneaking bites of food off other people’s plates. The air was complete with the smell of roasted meat and the fire that crackled away.

Through it all, Dorothea remained by Tommy’s side, unsure how to navigate the family's traditions.

After dinner, they all gathered around the fire, and Polly handed out small gifts to her nephews—her tokens of endearment for the family members who had stuck by her. Tommy looked closely at Dorothea’s face, her confusion giving way to something else as she unboxed a delicate gold necklace from him.

“Oh, Tommy,” Dorothea gasped as she ran her fingers along the intricate design. “It’s so beautiful. But I don't understand; you didn't have to get me anything.”

Tommy smiled as he brushed a fallen wave off her shoulder, as his past set heavily on his shoulders. “Sometimes, Dorothea, it’s not about what is expected. It's about showing someone what they mean to you.”

The fire crackled in the background, and for just a moment, Dorthea’s eyes softened. Outside, the world was cold, but Dorothea felt warmth inside this chaotic house with its loud and sometimes unforgiving family. Perhaps it was the way Tommy looked at her, or maybe it was the loud yet somewhat quiet acceptance of the Shelby clan, but at that moment, she knew this was what Christmas was all about. This Christmas would be one that she’d never forget.

Tommy leaned in closer to her, his voice barely above a whisper. “You don't have to change anything, Dorothea. You don't have to start celebrating Christmas suddenly if you don't want to. But you are here now—and that’s all that matters to me.”

Dorothea smiled shyly but with more warmth than he had ever seen before. “I think I’m open to new traditions, especially involving you and me.”

For the first time in his life, Tommy Shelby felt that starting something new, something unexpected was the best gift he could ever receive.

#tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x ofc #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinder headcanon #peaky blinder fanfiction #holiday fanfic #holiday #holiday fic #katys merry writeathon

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brummiereader · 10 months ago

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@peakyltd what a gorgeous moodboard and message Daisy ❤️. I just love the glamourous feel to this one 😍. The bubbling champagne, the gold and whites 👌. At first glance I thought the white peonies were garlic 🤦🏼‍♀️. I kept thinking, have we had a vampire AU of Heaven yet lol? It's morning here, I blame my tired brain. Really beautiful hun!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

I want to wish an amazing writer, the kindest person and above all, the loveliest Shark I know, the best birthday ever! 🥳🥰

I’m so happy to know you and have you as the amazing friend you are. I can’t thank you enough for all the support that you’ve been giving me and for being the incredible person you are.

I hope you have an amazing day and I hope that all your wishes for the coming year may come true ❤️

I also hope that Arthur pays you a visit in your dreams to wish you a happy birthday but in case he forgets, I made you a little birthday moodboard inspired by him and Heaven to make up for that.

@call-sign-shark

#sharks birthday 🎈#daisy ❤️#peaky blinders moodboard #peaky blinders #arthur shelby #arthur shelby x ofc #arthur shelby x reader

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sneakyblinders · 2 years ago

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Superstition pt ii modern!tommy shelby x ofc

A/N: pt 2 of superstition! tommy x amandine, a new ofc! set in Louisiana in modern day. read pt i here. listen to the ambiance here. warnings: sexual themes, violence, superstition, not canon, weapons, war.

Amandine watched as Tommy pulled his clothes on. Jeans, t-shirt, holster over his shoulders, gun loaded. He pushed his rings on his fingers, his signet ring and a ring she had bought him years ago. She was surprised he still wore it. He clasped a chain around his neck, one from his brother, Arthur. He sprayed his cologne on and turned around, blue eyes beaming at her. He felt more human today.

“Ready?” she asked, already hot in her sundress.

“If you are,” he said, walking out to the living room, ceiling fan chugging away at the already oppressive heat.

The drive to Amadine’s parents house was quiet. They lived about twenty minutes from them, closer to the center of the small city they lived closest to. They pulled up to the old house, which always made Tommy seethe. It screamed old money. White brick, four white pillars holding up the second story balcony with the biggest porch on a house he’d ever seen. Rocking chairs on the porch, rocking gently in the breeze, air circulating well thanks to a ceiling fan that whirred on the ceiling of the first floor.

They could smell the food from the driveway– the smoked boudin and collards, the peach pie–from the front porch.

“Della, I think someone’s here to see you,” Roseanne Theiriot said, dark eyes serious as she met Tommy’s eyes through the screen door.

Amandine and Tommy heard little footsteps running down the tile floors, stopping short when she saw her daddy. “Daddy?” she whispered.

Tommy knelt down. “It’s me, baby,” he said.

She smiled, running to him, crashing against his chest. Tommy wrapped his arms around his little girl. This little girl who he’d only seen pictures of–only ever heard her voice over a fuzzy phone call.

Amandine had gotten pregnant right before he’d enlisted in the service and gotten sent to the sandbox. He’d been away at war ever since–a topic that Amandine and Tommy fought over often. He had the opportunity to come home on leave but never took it–always choosing to stay with his men.

“This is really him?” Della asked, looking up at Amandine.

Amandine’s emotion caught in her throat. “Yes, sweetheart. This is your daddy,” she said, nodding.

“Thomas, I need to speak to you,” Roseanne said in that eerily quiet voice of hers. Gus, Amandine’s father and Roseanne’s husband walked down the hallway, and after seeing Tommy, groaned.

“Ah, fuck,” Gus groaned.

“Good to see you too, Gus,” Tommy said, standing up, Della clutching Tommy’s legs.

“Della, baby, Grandmere needs to talk to your daddy for a minute, okay? I’ll bring him right back,” Roseanne said, talking to her grandchild in a voice she only reserved for her.

Roseanne Theiriot was a force to be reckoned with, and one of the few people Tommy feared. Her hair was black, dark eyes, an olive skin tone. She always wore flowy dresses that billowed in the wind. Many people who did not understand this life, this culture, would refer to her as a witch, a fortune teller, a necromancer, a palm reader. The mystical power that was Roseanne Theiriot scared many, and enchanted all others.

The Theiriots and the Decourdreaux’s, Roseanne’s family, had been in Louisiana for generations. The land Gustav and Roseanne owned belonged to Gustav’s family going back to the 1800’s. Roseanne was raised in New Orleans. Her mother, and her mothers mother, and all the mothers before them, had been cursed with the gift of the spirits. Gifts going back to their Creole and Indigenous American roots from before Louisiana was even a state. They made their money telling fortunes and reading palms in Jackson Square. It’s how she met Gus, actually.

Gustav’s family roots traced back to the original Acadians, French immigrants pushed out of Nova Scotia in the late 1700’s. Amandine, and as a result, Delphina, affectionately nicknamed Della, had strong Louisiana roots that tied them to this land. This culture.

The Shelby’s had settled in Louisiana sometime around the 1930’s during the Great Depression, forsaking their traveler ways, but never forsaking the superstitions and beliefs that they so deeply to their core. The Gypsy beliefs that mimicked the beliefs of the Theiriots.

Roseanne pulled Tommy to the sitting room, where she shut the French doors. He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it, knowing it would bother her. “I knew you were coming, Thomas,” she said in a calm voice. “The waters were disturbed before you came back.”

Tommy tried to remain unphased, although being alone with Roseanne always sent chills up and down his spine. “Is that right?”

“I know what you did in Iraq,” Roseanne said, walking closer to him, her dark eyes boring holes into his soul. “Who is Grace?”

Images of her flashed through Tommy’s mind. Her on top of him, her lips on his skin. Sinking into her. Then her gun to his temple, nearly pulling the trigger before his men stormed the barracks, aware of the mole. The rat.

“No one,” he said simply, eyes meeting Roseanne’s.

“You should know better than to lie, Thomas,” Roseanne warned, jaw clenched. “The curse,” she shook her head slightly, her turquoise jewelry rattling.

“I haven’t betrayed Amandine in any way that she hasn’t betrayed me,” he said plainly.

Roseanne slapped Tommy across his cheek, a stinging pain shooting through him. “Don’t speak of my daughter, and the mother of your child in that way,” she seethed. “She has taken care of all your filthy business and ran it through her own business as a damn cover operation, evading arrest multiple times all to continue the filth you started, just so you would come home to her.”

“She did it for the same reason I came back to this shithole,” Tommy argued. “She did it because she doesn’t want to live the rest of her days with the mark of Cain, and a curse to rival hell’s fury,” Tommy exhaled, annoyed already. “I have a child I need to introduce myself to, so if you don’t mind, I’ll be seeing myself out. We won’t be staying for lunch,” Tommy said, forcing himself past her and out the doors.

Amandine found herself back at Marie’s the next night–the restaurant she had opened the year she fell pregnant with Della. Tommy and Della were alone together for the first time. He had decided to take her to a movie and out for pizza.

Sweat ran down Amandine’s back as she grilled off steaks and asparagus, before one of her waiters came asking for her. “Somebody here to see you, Ma’am,” the young waiter, no older than seventeen said.

“Who?” she asked, unbothered by him and far more concerned with the char on her New York Strips. The muscles in her back flexed, reminding her of the gun she had tucked in the waistband of her checked pants.

“Uh, Vincent, ma’am,” he said uncomfortably.

“Alright, I’ll be out as soon as I get this ticket done.”

Vincent Camponi was a farmer and fisherman who Amandine bought her produce and shrimp off of for the restaurant. They’d fumbled into each other one night at a bar. One thing led to another, and they couldn’t keep their hands, or mouths, off each other ever since.

“Hey, baby,” he drawled, his thick Louisiana accent making Amandine’s stomach flip.

“Vin,” she began, putting her hands on his chest to avoid his kisses. “Vin, Tommy’s back. I–I can’t do this.”

Vincent’s eyes became dark, the often playful look that was in them disappearing completely. “After the hell he’s put you through? After all the neglect? What did he do to deserve you, Dine?”

His lips were dangerously close to hers. So close. “Not a damn thing,” she breathed before their lips crashed together.

That night, Amandine tried her best to sneak home, but Tommy was up, whiskey in his hand, gun on the coffee table. Della was asleep in the recliner, curled under her favorite blanket.

“Where the hell have you been?” Tommy asked, eyes heavy with fatigue.

“Working,” she said.

He checked his watch. “Restaurant closed damn near three hours ago,” he said.

“Lots of dishes,” she said, the lie rolling off her tongue easily.

Tommy stood up, stalking towards her. “Are you trying to ruin our lives? To ruin our daughter's life?”

“What are you talking about, Tom?” Amandine sneered, trying to push past him.

“I can smell his cologne on you,” Tommy seethed, backing her against the wall. “You’re the one who made your mama cast that damn spell,” he pinned her hands above her head, against the wall, his hips crushing against hers. “And you’re gonna keep the end of the damn bargain, woman,” he sneered.

“You wanted that spell as much as I did,” she countered, wiggling her hips against his. Talks of curses and spells be damned, he had a spell on her. On her body. How she craved him. How she needed him.

“What an idiot I was,” he chuckled to himself.

“Do you love me, Thomas?” she asked, emotion cracking through her voice.

He shook his head, in disbelief of himself, of his life. “With all I fucking am,” he breathed before crashing his lips to hers.

After Tommy rolled off her for the last time that night, collapsing into exhaustion and blissed out sleep, Amandine had some time to think. Reflect. On this life. This confusing as hell love she and Tommy shared.

They’d met in high school, what seemed like eons ago now. They’d fallen head over heels in love with one another–lost their virginities to one another, shared hopes and dreams, slept out under the stars in the canals, the swamps, together in his pirogue. They’d graduated a year apart, buying their house the day after Amandine graduated.

Tommy had gotten mixed up in the wrong crowds that first year out of high school, a result of Arthur’s dealings and out of a necessity for money. The drugs had begun flowing freely when they began working as protection detail for big time dealers. And the money followed.

Amandine had proven her talent in kitchens time after time. And before he went away to war, he had bought her Marie’s–a restaurant named for her Grandmere, who taught her everything she knew about the kitchen. He had bought it for her under the condition that she would use it as a cover business to funnel his drugs through. He, Arthur and John had managed to make their own name in the business, also continuing to illegally produce their own alcohol. A form of moonshine, outlawed in the States for decades. She had reluctantly agreed.

Before Tommy went away to war, the couple, still desperately in love, bound themselves together spiritually. Roseanne cast a spell over the two of them, binding them together in love and devotion, with the warning that if their love was ever broken, calamity would befall them and all their children for the rest of their days.

The scars on their palms were from where they had bound themselves together with blood. Bodies and souls–forever bound.

Despite their awkward reunion, their wayward hearts and confused minds–Amandine knew she and Tommy would always come back together. The love they had ran deeply.

Deeper than most understood.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x ofc #tommy shelby x amandine #tommy shelby x oc #thomas shelby x oc #thomas shelby x ofc #thomas shelby #peakywomen #peaky fookin blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #sneakyblinders #louisiana au #modern!tommyshelby x ofc #modern!tommy shelby

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call-sign-shark · 2 years ago

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Heaven in Your Eyes|| Arthur Shelby x OC!Reader

Summary: When Arthur comes home with his arms wrapped tight around your shoulders, willing to introduce you to the family, the reactions are lukewarm. Some love you, some are wary, and others do not really care. But when it comes to Thomas Shelby, things are different. After meeting you he comes to two conclusions: first, Arthur is madly smitten with you to the point it worries him. Second, he does not like you. Not at all. That's why he tries to scare you away.

Words: 4,5k

TW: smut, non-protected sex, p in v, age gap (reader is in her late 20s), typical canon violence, mention of suicide attempt, mention of drugs, Tommy being a dick,

Notes: ✞ All chapters can be read as stand-alones but it's obviously better if you read everything.

✞ Heaven is OP's original character but written with the use of « you » (Moodboard here).

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT PART

“Bloody Hell.”

That was all John could say when his vibrant blue eyes fell on you. The night Thomas told him Linda and Arthur had divorced, he could not believe it. He, more than anyone else, was well aware of his older brother’s tendencies to kowtow under his wife’s authority. Hence his reluctance to believe in such an improbable event. Once he processed the information, John thought about the whole ordeal over and over again. At first, he genuinely thought Linda was the one who left for she had already threatened Arthur to do so countless times. Let alone the fact their relationship had been hanging on by a thread for a while. Somehow he could not blame her — dealing with his brother’s mental illness and tantrums was overwhelming, he could get it, but if there were positive traits among Arthur’s troubled behaviors they were certainly his loyalty and the gigantic amount of love he could give to his significant other. That was why he was persuaded Arthur would never leave his wife, as much as John and the Shelby women warned him she was not a good person.

— And here he came today after weeks of absolute ghosting, the fairest creature he has ever seen snuggling in his arms. For sure, no one expected it.

“Bloody. Fucking. Hell.” He reiterated, standing in the doorway with his hand still on the knob and his eyes wide open. Astounded, John looked at you from head to toe for probably the tenth time in a row.

“Are ya going to stand there like a dumbass or can we come in?” Arthur growled. He tightened his protective embrace around you, ready to bounce on his little brother’s throat at the slightest inappropriate comment. You bit your lip, not really sure what to do or say — maybe meeting the Shelby family was not a good idea after all.

“Is she really your woman?”

“Fuck off, John! Let us in.” Arthur said louder. He did not want to throw a brutal fit in front of you but you could feel his body shaking against yours, for John was about to cross the very short limits of his patience. One of your small hands gently stroked his chest in an attempt to calm him. Luckily for John, the sensation of your cold skin, which he could feel through the thin fabric of his shirt, was enough to tame his fire.

John Shelby blinked again and, this time, his thin adorable lips stretched in a teasing smile. You did not know him, but you felt he was about to say something stupid. Very stupid.

“How could such a stunning young girl like her be interested in an old and ugly ass dog like you? Fuck, is that your real hair color tho?”

The flip in Arthur’s brain switched - it was too much for him not to react.

“YOU LIL PIECE OF —“

“Arthur, dear.” You said with an indescribably soft voice, stepping in front of him to block his path. You pressed your hands on his chest a second time to gently keep him from fighting with his younger brother and probably knocking him out with his bare fists, “It’s alright. He is just messing with ya, you know?” You looked at him, a loving smile flattering your juicy lips. Letting a long and noisy exhale out of his quavering mouth, Arthur looked dagger at his brother one last time with a threatening gleam burning in his iris before shifting his focus on you. As soon as his steel blue eyes caught sight of your adorable pout his face relaxed.

“Alright. Alright.” He whispered, feeling his rage evaporating at the sole view of your holy smile, “Ain’t going to smash his face in front of such a delicate little lady, eh.” He said. The gravel in his voice never failed to make you burn with both love and desire. Then, he leaned over you for a kiss, his mind finding its peace only when your lips crashed together.

John watched the scene with vivid interest, for he had never seen someone handling his brother with such genuine care. To be honest, he had hated Linda since day one — not only for the power she exerted on Arthur but also because of her irritating and condescending nature. She had always walked among the Shelby family as if she had been irremediably better than them, both morally and socially. John could not help but see all her sweet gestures being tainted with a will of controlling Arthur. That, along with the muzzle and leash she had put on her brother, strengthened his deep aversion for Linda. But you were different — he could sense it. There was something about the way your fingers laid upon his brother as if you were not afraid of his destructive fire but did not want to extinguish it either. Also something about the way you looked at him, with both love and admiration, to the point he could not say if you were his guiding light or if it was the other way round. And when he saw the sudden shift in Arthur’s behavior, immediately calming down at your angelic voice, he knew you were the one.

“Moreover” You added, slowly pulling away from the kiss to press your forehead against his. Arthur looked at you with eyes half closed, bewitched by your enchanting tone.

“Hmm?”

“I only see one ugly ass dog here and it’s chewing on a toothpick.” Your smile turned into a cunning smirk and your precious aquamarine eyes glanced at John.

“Hey! Hold your woman.” John retorted, pretending to be vexed — truth was he liked your wit, “Alright you can come in,” he said, stepping away from the doorway to invite you inside the Shelby’s house.

“Ain’t holding shit, I love it when me angel bites,” Arthur stated with one sharp, almost carnivorous grin on his face. As he passed by his little brother he punched him right in the shoulder in a typical sibling way to avenge himself. The younger one swore.

You took a deep breath and looked at Arthur, trying to find the necessary courage you needed for this first encounter. Admittedly, you did not know what to expect, but one thing you knew was that the Shelby family was not people you wanted to mess with.

A relieved sigh escaped from your lips as you filled the teapot with water, all alone in the family kitchen. You enjoyed this quick moment of calmness, soothed by the pleasant smell of freshly baked cookies Esme had taken out of the oven minutes ago. The wooden floor creaked when Arthur entered the kitchen, closing the door behind him. As soon as you left the table following Polly’s comment he had followed you.

“Yer okay?” He asked, his hoarse voice highlighted with sincere worries.

“I’m fine dear,” You glanced at him above your shoulder and offered a light smile to reassure him even though you both knew you were hurt, “You should go back to your family, I won’t be long.. Just needed to take a big breath. And we are running out of tea.” You added, waving off his question.

Arthur shook his head in disapproval and walked toward you with his so-specific yet adorable gait, swinging both arms at the same time. You had always found this detail absolutely endearing, which had surprised him at first — you never mocked him for the way he walked, nor made the slightest snarky remark.

Your smile, flickering and fragile at first, soon widened in comfort knowing he’ll keep you company during this life-saving break.

“I’m sorry for what Pol said to you. She doesn’t mean it.”

“Pretty sure she did mean I was a Devil and that I’ll bring woe to this family, but it’s fine.” You said before shifting your attention back to the teapot. Arthur wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you in a tight and reassuring back hug. As soon your bodies collided together, his warmth alleviated all your doubts and you found a well-deserved comfort in his presence. Worries vanished in smoke, annihilated by his protective demeanor.

Each time you touched was a reminder that everything will always be fine as long as you were together.

You wiggled your nose like a little bunny for his musky perfume tickled your nostrils. And its familiar fragrances were enough to chase Polly’s unpleasant comments away from your brain. If you had not been busy making tea, you would have buried your face in his chest and never moved again.

“It has nothing to do with ya,” Arthur broke the silence first, “it’s your hair.”

“My hair?” You asked in a half-convinced tone, one brow raised.

“Yes, your hair. She thinks someone cast a spell on ya when you were young or something, and she’s afraid the spell will harm her too if she sits next to you. Like it’s bloody contagious. It’s some kind of superstitious shit, not that she had really felt something evil in you.”

At such a revelation, you brought your small hand to your mouth to cover it and tried your best not to laugh. If her words had hurt you, painfully reminding your troubled life in France, the idea of a strong woman like Polly Gray being afraid of you only because of the color of your hair had something hilarious.

“Esme too. She told me she’d personally kick me in the balls if her fookin’ baby comes out with white hair. But that woman is batshit crazy anyway. Pretty sure she’ll kick me in the bollocks for free.” He growled, his arms tightening around your waist. He rested his chin on your shoulder. Arthur was holding you firmly as if he was afraid you might run away from him after the disastrous encounter with the two Shelby women. After waiting all his life for a woman not to flee from him, he would break into a million pieces if you would do so. Fortunately enough, Ada seemed to like you. She fancied your wit and your curiosity. Most of the afternoon had been spent chatting with her and John under the judging eyes of both Polly and Esme. Usually, people would shut Ada down each time she would talk about politics, especially about her communist ideas, but you did not. Quite the contrary, you listened to her carefully and questioned her with a genuine will to learn — even though you had never been good with politics. At least the conversation had been stimulating. And just like John before, she had also noticed the indescribable care and love with which you blessed her older brother, never controlling him, and always showering him with signs of deep affection. Maybe that was why she did not tease you when she noticed that you and Arthur were holding hands under the table.

As for Finn, he had been too busy staring at Arthur with eyes wide open to even bother interacting with you. He could not believe that you, a tiny young white-haired girl with an angel face, were in love with his violent brother.

“So they think I’m contagious.” You might have been too confident about your ability to remain impassive because you suddenly snorted with laughter as you understood the true nature of their rude behavior. The crystalline laugh that escaped your mouth sounded like the most delicate music to his ears — he would listen to it with delight each time, his sick brain momentarily forgetting the booming canons and cacophony of war. Arthur, relieved by your reaction, allowed himself to chuckle along.

“They do, eh.” He admitted, his lips gently brushing your neck, irremediably attracted by your fragile porcelain flesh. His breath, slow and peaceful, caressed your sensitive skin as he exhaled, sending shivers down your spine. Arthur closed his eyes for a second and let the delightful scents of your perfume intoxicate him. Way stronger than any drugs, your fragrances made his head spin — he was losing touch with reality but, this time, he was more than allowing it to happen. Because instead of being sent into a violent craze, he would drown in a blissful haze.

“You should flee from me, I might infect you too, and you’ll be under my spell.” You teased, your heavy French accent adorning your words.

“I’m already under your spell, love.” His arms freed your waist from their grip only for his strong, calloused hands to run up your sides. How much you enjoyed the sensation of your body flickering under his touch as his soft fingers left trails of fire in their sillage until they finally cupped your small breasts. A blazing desire awoke in your belly and spread like wildfire through every inch of your flesh.

“Arthur — no,” You looked around you to make sure no one had discreetly entered the kitchen.

“Why not say Arthur yes?” He grunted in your ear. His raspy voice caused an earthquake in your whole being — it shook you so strongly that your legs were now trembling, ready to give up under your weight. Your lips parted to say something but words got stuck in your throat as his hips pressed against yours to keep you trapped between the kitchen counter and his tall, lean body.

“I’m serious, we could get caught. And half of your family already distrust me so I’m pretty sure fucking in their kitchen won’t do me good.” You managed to say quickly before biting your lip, trapping its juicy flesh between your teeth.

“It will do good, love. Fookin’… Good…” His thumbs gently rubbed your perky nipples, which were already pointing through the thin white fabric of your dress. A feverish and liquored sigh escaped from his lips, as he started moving his hips against the sinful curve of your butt cheeks, “I crave you so much Heaven, ” he paused his sentence to lay myriads of hungry kisses on your neck, “You make me lose me bloody mind…” An excruciating heat pooled in his body, so insufferable he could have ripped his skin apart. Arthur growled again at the overwhelming sensation of lava flowing through his veins

— “I. Need. Ya.”

You don’t understand. He did not only want you, he needed you.

You were his missing half, and he could only feel complete with you.

You were his light, and he could only find a way out of the darkness if you were here.

You were his saving grace, his redemption.

You were his breath, his blood, his heart.

You. You. You. You.

There was only you.

You could not help but moan in a frail and aroused whine: his hands had left your breasts to travel everywhere they could on your body, almost a bit too eagerly for you to keep up with what was happening. At that point you had to hold onto the counter, nails digging into its worn wood.

“Arthur.” You whispered, eyes closed and head down. As the arousal building within almost suffocated you, Arthur kept invading your pale and fragile flesh with both his daring hands and mouth. You whimpered at the pinching sensation of his teeth that had just bit the base of your neck. You were usually not timid when it came to sex, but not when the family of your man was taking the tea in the room that was right behind the door. But Arthur could not care less about getting caught. All he wanted was a taste of his angel.

He was everywhere — on every inch of your body, his lips kissing and biting. His hands rubbing and grabbing. He was overwhelming your senses with his unquenchable need to touch you again and again. And how good it felt to be desired as he did.

To be desired "À la Folie".

“Say you want me, eh. I wanna hear it.” The gravel in his voice sent tremors in your belly. You exhaled, your breath shaky, for one of his hands had just lifted your dress. Doing so, he disclosed your garters and the beautiful lace panties you were wearing. The fear of getting caught was still pounding in your chest, but the way he touched you was too good to resist. You gave in, ready to pay the consequences.

“I want you Arthur, “ You finally admitted, your lips stretching in a smirk, “ I want you,” You repeated, arching your back and spreading your legs to show how eager you were to feel him inside you, “Only you.” You had uttered the last two words with such tenderness, such a comforting tone, that you felt him smile against your neck. His mustache was tickling you at each word, each movement, which only contributed to the hurricane of sensations and feelings he provoked within your soul. Right next to you, the teapot had started to let out a faint and continuous whistle as the water boiled inside. At one point you were convinced it was not the kettle, but your scorching desire that made such a sound.

With one skillful movement, Arthur’s fingers shifted your soaked panties to the side and he unbuckled his belt with his other hand.

“Please…” You bent over the counter and begged, for the clothes that separated your bodies had become a far too heavy burden to bear. The only moment you felt a twinge of satisfaction was when his hard shaft pressed against your dripping pussy.

“Bloody hell, woman.” He grunted, his voice raspier than it usually was, as your delightful warmth and wetness welcomed him.

Arthur grabbed your hips fiercely and, unable to wait any longer, sunk into you in one slow but determined trust. A gravel moan, far from being discreet, echoed in the kitchen at the dizzying sensation of your warmth swallowing him. Struck by a moment of clarity, you covered your mouth with your hand to muffle your whimpers of pleasure. Stars dangled behind your closed eyelids, along with the melody of beating hearts and snapping flesh. In that risky situation, you were both well aware it was not time for a languid and intimate moment, but rather for a quick and torrid fuck. Hence, Arthur started to pound you with a fierce and quick pace as soon as you had adjusted to his size. Your legs quivered even more for his cock was thick, so thick your walls were stretched all around him.

“So… Tight…” He stuttered, breathless.

“Oh my — Arthur, Arthur!” You chanted, as a poor sinful soul chanting for God to set her free. The way his name melt on your tongue only made his thrusts rougher, for he loved how it sounded in your mouth. Especially with that adorable French accent of yours. There, with his cock buried deep in your heavenly cunt, he felt like a proud man — not some kind of rabid animal, or a lonely lunatic anymore. He just felt like a good man, giving pleasure to his good and beautiful little wife.

His pulse quickened. His pupils dilated, and you felt him going faster. Muffling your screams, you lost yourself in a fire of lust. You were not you anymore, but a wet mess of desire.

The pleasure you were giving him sent a shot of dopamine through his brain. Arthur threw his head back, grunting louder, and let his whole being sink in the high you were causing him “So — good. Yer so good, Angel. Keep pleasing your ol’ Arthur, will ye?” His hips jerked for he felt his climax coming. Yet, Arthur put his own pleasure on the back burner, refusing to come if you did not. He kept fucking you on the counter and slipped one of his hands between your legs to rub his fingers against your swollen clit. This time it was too much to handle: your walls clenched around him and you froze, all your muscles tensing at once. A cry of release would have echoed in the kitchen if you had not choked it with your hand. A tsunami of pleasure crashed against your bones, leaving you panting and shaking like a leaf, still bent over the kitchen counter with your dress lift and Arthur deep inside you.

As you cum, your glistening love juice dripping along his shaft, Arthur allowed his own pleasure to overflow. He slammed his hips one last time against yours -- his cock throbbed, at the edge of climax. But as much as he wanted to fill you with his semen, he still gathered all his remaining will to pull out in extremis.

You sighed with ecstasy when warm and milky ropes of cum rained down on your ass.

“Aah yes, love.” Arthur’s hoarse moan echoed in the kitchen. How long did you stay there? You could not tell, for you were still dizzy with the orgasm he had just given you. Arthur slowly came back to his senses, the fog of pleasure in his brain evaporating.

"We should get back to the living room, eh."

That was at this moment of intense relaxation, the two of you catching your breath and sharing post-sex smiles, that the door slammed open.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Your heart missed a beat. In one movement, Arthur pulled up his pants while you strengthened up and smoothed the folds of your dress before turning to the newcomer.

“Fuck off Tommy. Can’t you knock?!”

“This is no bedroom. I don’t need to knock because I am not supposed to find anyone having sex here.” A freezing and quiet voice, also blessed with a seductive and hoarse tone, retorted.

The infamous Thomas Shelby stood in front of you, arms crossed in his back and cold blue eyes staring at you. If you had the ability to disappear right on the spot you would have used it without hesitation. Yet, you remained silent, slightly hidden behind Arthur who ran his hands through his hair to slick back the rebel strands that had fallen on each side of his face. The older Shelby quickly moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue before talking.

“Erm, can I help ya Tommy?” He asked, still panting from your quick but intense fuck. You took advantage of their conversation to wipe the sweat from your forehead and briefly redo your hair.

“I am afraid you can’t, brother. However, I am pretty sure you charming woman can. I’d like to talk to her if she allows me to.”

You frowned. Why the hell did he want to talk to you in private?

Arthur nodded and wrapped your shoulders with one protective arm, his surprised expression turning into a smile. He could not wait to introduce you to his little brother, filled with pride at the idea of showing him his magnificent woman. It was important to him — even though he would have preferred him not to meet her in these conditions — “Of course, I've been waiting to…”

“Without you.” Tommy cut him off, and his words broke Arthur’s dawning grin. Despite the rollercoaster of emotions you just had, you could not help but open your mouth.

“He’s your older brother. He has every right to remain here while we talk, hasn’t he?” You argued, unhappy with the way Thomas Shelby acted. Arthur had waited the whole afternoon for Tommy to come so that he could introduce you to him, and when his little brother finally ought to show up he sent him off. That was painful to watch, “or if you really want to talk to me in private I think you might ask politely.”

A heavy silence fell in the room. How dare you speak to him with that arrogant tone? He thought. Tommy inhaled through his nose slowly, and moistened his lips, “Well, Arthur would you please leave me and your charming lady alone for two minutes?” He reiterated with a more polite phrasing. In spite of his unshaken placidity, his bleak winter eyes were looking daggers at you. He had certainly killed you at least three times in his mind. Slightly confused, Arthur looked at you, then at Tommy, before nodding, “Right,” he mumbled, his eyes fleeing his brothers’. He kissed your cheek and reluctantly left the kitchen, already aching from your absence.

You sighed, wondering what was going to happen now that you were all alone with the fearless Peaky Blinders’ boss everyone was talking about. Rather than starting the conversation, you took a cigarette from the small silver case that was on the counter and slipped it between your full lips, still swollen from the countless times you had bit them when you and Arthur had sex. Thomas Shelby remained silent too— all he did was walk to you, his soles hammering the floor, and lit up your cigarette with his zippo. But you were not fooled by his gentlemanly appearance nor by his undeniable charm. You took a puff from your cigarette until the tip ignited, and you stepped back from him as quickly as you could. Contrary to what people could think when watching Arthur and you, you did not like people entering your personal space without an invitation.

“I’ll go straight to the point, Miss Lavey. How much do you want?” He asked, his low and quiet voice undisrupted by the slightest emotions. While Arthur was made of fire, Thomas Shelby was surely made of ice.

“I beg your pardon?” You asked, brows furrowed , for you had not understand what he meant.

“How much money do you want to leave my brother?”

His words were so violent, so unexpected, that you were unsure if he had just slapped you across the face or not. Your mind started to buzz, its gears creaking and tinting as you tried not to burst out in anger at such an indecent suggestion. Against all his expectations, your innocent pout turned to the most freezing expression he had ever seen on a woman.

“To Hell with your money. I don’t know what you're trying to do but I won’t leave him. Why would I, eh?”

“Because I don’t trust you.” He retorted as soon as you had finished your sentence. Thomas quickly rubbed his cigarette on his lower lip and lit it. White smoke came out from his nostrils as he stared at you, like an angry dragon gazing upon the last breath of his future meal. “When I learned for you and Arthur I decided to send some of my guys to investigate on you. They told me every bloody thing,” He emphasized each syllable, almost baring his teeth doing so for you to understand he was not joking — in case you doubt it, “ I know you come from that small town in the French Alps. I know about the witch hunt that took place there and all the women who have been tortured and burned. But more than that, I know that you managed to escape right before they tied you to the pyre. And I also know about the story of the five poor villagers who have been hunted and killed like animals — it was you, right?” Tommy exhaled another cloud of smoke, his eyes never losing their focus on you.

“— And?” You gritted through your teeth, hatred blooming in your heart at the mention of these traumatizing memories. However, you did not let it show, for you knew it would please him. Thomas Shelby was well aware of the threatening aura that emanated from him, and how to use it for his own benefit. If you displayed any sign of fear or anger, it would be over and he would win. And somehow you were not particularly afraid of him.

He might had blood on his hands but you did too.

“And I will not tolerate a witch and a murderer around this family, nor will I let you take advantage of Arthur and ruin him.”

“Now you’re worried for Arthur. Isn’t it a bit too late?” You said, all the traits of your doll-like face suddenly devoid of any emotion, except a slight shade of unsettling arrogance, “You throw away his meds, you send him off when he asks you for help — when he tells you he’s desperate.” You stubbed your cigarette out in the nearest ashtray, “You didn’t even help him when he was ruining himself with cocaine. But that’s not it.” You walk toward Tommy, reducing the distance between you and him with unstoppable steps until you were standing a few inches from him. You raised your head to look at his arctic blue eyes, “He tried to kill himself and all you did was wave it off at best and treat him like a child at worst. Now let me ask you something, Thomas Shelby. Who’s the one who uses his own brother as his combat dog? And who’s the one who closes his eyes on his problems until they are insufferable enough for him to attempt suicide?”

Thomas clenched his jaws, his gaze hardening. He had to admit you had guts for a frail creature he could have broken in half with his bare hands. You were such a small yet fierce woman, it almost unsettled him. Moreover, you were smart, and smart was dangerous.

“So, don’t ever say I am the one who will manipulate and ruin Arthur when you do it on a daily basis. I love your brother, and whether you like it or not I’ll stay by his side.”

He rolled his eyes. The conversation was slowly but surely getting on his nerves, “Listen, I don’t need another Linda. She almost turned him into her dog and yet he was barely half in love with her compared to what he feels for you. Look at him! Look at fucking Arthur Shelby! He would throw himself out of London Bridge if you’d ask him to do so. She already tried to change him and took him away from this family, so don’t think I am naive enough to believe in your so-called love and kindness.”

“I ain’t gonna change shit. I am well aware of his demons, well aware of what he is but that's okay, I accept him the way he is. All I want is to see him healed and happy. No matter if he wants to keep killing people for your business. Sky could break loose I won’t give a damn as long as he feels better.”

Another silence. Thomas was trying hard to decipher your intentions but he could not probe your far-too-unique eyes. His brows furrowed; it was the first instance of emotions you had seen on his face since the beginning of your not-so-cordial conversation.

“You’re a bad omen, Heaven. I can feel it.”

“Why dear? Do you see a sapphire in my eyes?”

A rush of thunderous rage ran through his veins — how could you mention Grace's death? A gleam of violence ignited Thomas's eyes, who suddenly grabbed your throat without any warning sign. His strong and large hand tightened around your fragile neck and pressed against your windpipe enough for you to give you trouble breathing. You tried to talk but nothing came out, words choked under his palm. The pressure was not enough to really choke you, but it was still painful. With eyes wide opened in surprise, you wrapped your own fingers around his wrist and clawed his flesh in a desperate attempt to free yourself from his grip, but Thomas did not falter. Quite the contrary, the more you struggled the more he closed his fist around you.

“Don’t ever disrespect Grace anymore!” He gritted through his teeth, “You want to stay by Arthur’s side? Fine. So here's the plan: you’re going to be a good little wife for him and you won’t cause any trouble, nor interfere with my business. You’re going to do the best you could to make him happy and you’ll take care of him. You'll want him even when he’ll go back home wasted, yelling at you and breaking things because he will ultimately do it,” He paused, his eyes falling on the pale flesh of your throat he was still holding. The expression on his face changed for one brief second as he started to caress your neck with his thumb, almost too tenderly to be completely devoided of any kind of attraction, “but let me set this straight: if you ever try to leave him, if you become an inconvenience or if any member of my family is hurt because of your cursed being… I’ll burn you in a field like the witch you are.”

He finally released your throat and looked at the scratches you inflicted on his wrist. As you inhaled loudly, Thomas rolled down the sleeve of his shirt to hide the red and thin cuts your nails had left on his skin. He did not even bother checking on you.

“Let’s go back to the living room. And wear your most beautiful smile.” He stated with his usual cold demeanor, watching you rub your sore throat. Then, he offered you his arm to keep up appearances. You reluctantly accepted and followed him out of the kitchen, still shaken by the conversation —

The whole family, freshly joined by Michael Gray, was chatting together, all scattered here and there in the living room. Arthur, a hip flask filled with whisky in one hand, got up from his chair as soon as he saw you. At first, you thought he suspected something but the truth was that Thomas was insanely clever and he took care not to leave any bruise on your delicate skin. And when it came to hiding things, he was certainly the best. Even better than you. Tommy finally released you from his grip so that you could come back to his older brother, then he poured some whisky into a glass for him.

“Well Arthur, congratulations. You’ve brought a stunning and lovely lady into that house. I guess we could welcome her in the family, since she made our good ol’ Arthur happy, eh.”

He rose his glass to you, his threatening blue eyes staring right at your soul.

“Welcome, Heaven. Hope you'll stay with us for a while.” He said, pretending nothing had happened.

Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivated me, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

Also, the third first parts of this series can be read as stand-alone but I advise you to read everything if you want a better understanding of details.

Tagging those who might be interest: @areyenotfondofmelobster @meowtastick @babayaga67 @sired-to-hybrid

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novashelby · 1 month ago

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The Girl With the Smile: Chapter One

Pairing: Arthur Shelby x Tilly (OFC)

Warnings: Mention of drinking, alcoholism, language, typical period attitude, sexism, depression, mental illness.

Word Count: 1.8

Story Summary: Matilda "Tilly" Swanson was a klutz who never really wanted to be a maid. Arthur Shelby was a manic wreck who never wanted the maid to begin with. What happens when a miserable old sod starts to find comfort in his younger and silly maid?

Chapter Summary: Arthur isn't very happy when Tommy brings over a young woman. To him, he's fine and just wants to be left alone.

Please enjoy! Reblogs and comments encouraged.

“Arthur, look at you!” Tommy Shelby could be described as a functional mess, but Arthur Shelby was a functional nothing. Scattered about the floor of his darkened parlor lay empty whiskey bottles, discarded cigarettes that the ashtray could no longer hold, and broken things that Tommy couldn’t identify. Tommy covered his nose with his handkerchief, eyes scanning around before landing on his brother. “You’re a bloody fookin’ disaster. How do you function in this filth, eh?” Tommy kicked the wooden leg of the red velvet chair his brother rested on; slumped and decaying in his own aroma.

Arthur gurgled out a train of incomprehensible gibberish. “Wha-s-ye-wan’, Aye?!” Fetal position, he curled up with the bottle of rum, turning himself so as to not look at Tommy. “Fook off!” That was clear. His trousers were soiled, shit stained, and hair unkempt. His stubble almost matched his mustache in length.

“Now, Arthur!” Tommy removed his cigarette from his lips and rubbed it out in the ashtray, adding it to the ground. His brother wasn’t hardly a smoker, but he assumed that he must have taken it up when Linda left. “It’s been three fookin’ weeks now-”

“Fuck off-”

“In a minute, eh?” Neither brother wanted to deal with the pathetic situation at hand, but Tommy feared if he let it go any longer, Arthur would bloody off himself. “I think I have been quite patient in terms of…of whatever this fuckin’ is.” From behind Tommy, the door opened a crack, and the slight bit of sunlight left of the day peeked through. Tommy shot a look behind him, and said, “I told you to stay outside-”

“I know!” A soft, young voice spoke suddenly. Arthur grunted, shifting a bit and squinting towards the door. Through the slightly opened mahogany door, slipped in a young woman, delicately, but simply dressed. With gloved hands, she gripped a small suitcase that held no more than a few sacred belongings. Both men looked at her for a minute, and she quickly apologized, taking off her hat. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t wear such a thing inside, but now my hair is quite messy and wow, I just…wow.” Once she registered the sight before her, she took a step back and slowly looked up at Tommy with a gaped mouth. “Mr. Shelby-”

“I’ll pay you fifteen pounds instead!” Quickly, Tommy jumped over to her, gently touching her arms. “Fifteen pounds, a good more than you got working for me, eh?” He grinned, pinching at her chin. His grin slowly dropped as he let out a sigh of exhaustion. It wasn’t an ideal situation. What maid wanted to be a babysitter, housekeeper, and cook all for one smelly, distraught, and difficult man? “C’mon, fifteen pounds, eh?” He tried, tapping her arms. She offered a sympathetic smile, right shoulder shrugging a bit. “Alright, alright. Twenty pounds. That’s double the national average!”

Hand motioning to Arthur, who had passed out sometime within the mix of conversation. Sympathetically, she said, “Mr. Shelby, I’m grateful, but your brother isn’t exactly known for being easy. That’s why Sandra and Clara rejected the offer-”

“And you didn’t because you’re a hard worker!” As his hand hit harder against her arm, she winced. “And you are good with people, Miss. Swanson.” The maid eased her shoulders and nodded, pushing her suitcase to the cleanest spot she could find. “Arthur!” Tommy kicked the leg of the chair once again, that time hard enough it almost dug the drunken fool out of his inebriated state. Jumping up, he yelled out, thrashing and seething. “Arthur!” Tommy yelled again, pushing his older brother down in the chair. “This is Miss. Swanson.” Arthur could hardly find her through his double vision. Squinting, he grumbled a few words that neither made sense nor were relevant. “I’ve taken her from my own team of maids-”

“I-ish wan’ no mai’.”

She blinked. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak Romani. English?”

Tommy swallowed, dryly stating, “that was English.”

“Oh.”

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, Arthur!” Tommy picked his brother up straight and made him sit like a normal human being. “You be kind to Miss. Swanson, you understand me? Hm?” Pinching his cheeks, Tommy leaned in. “She’s goin’ to ‘elp ya’ around here, alright? Make sure you’re keeping clean, eating, showering, getting your fuckin’ arse to work! Three Goddamn weeks, Arthur! Haven’t come to bloody fuckin’ work in three fookin’ weeks.” He and Arthur wrestled for a moment over the whiskey bottle. Tommy tried to pull the bottle away, but Arthur kept it close to his chest with a grip stronger than anything. “Alrigh’, fine! Fuckin’ have the bottle, but until you can fuckin’ shower and shave, you’re off the bottle, eh? No more!”

He walked over to her, tired of it. She hesitantly looked over at the sunken man and then to Tommy. “Are you sure I should stay here…alone?” Motioning to him, she continued, “I mean, he’s a bit neurotic. What if he…I don’t know, hurts me?”

Tommy sighed. “My number is on the phone. If I don’t pick up, I’ve left numerous other numbers. He won’t hurt you-”

“You didn’t say that with confidence, exactly, Mr. Shelby.”

“He’s never hurt a woman,” he corrected before adding, “never before. He’s small. Um, not much to him. You can take him. Believe in yourself, eh? I’m counting on you.” As he stood above her, cupping her cheeks, and leaning down. “Tilly,” he said, affectionately. “Mr. Shelby is counting on you.” Giving in, she offered a little smile, the rounds of her cheeks turning red. “I couldn’t ask anyone, but you.”

“Alright, Mr. Shelby,” she agreed. “Twenty pounds a month, thirty pound bonus upfront-”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, eh-”

“But you couldn’t ask anyone, but me, remember?” She grinned, a little twinkle in her eyes. Tommy sighed, pulling away and reaching into his wallet, digging out ten, mumbling how he’d supplement the other twenty. “Don’t worry…they say you should always high ball a man, not low ball.” Tommy Shelby couldn’t even be angry at that. It was as if she was beating him at his own game. All that stuff he said was simply a trick to get her to stay. Tilly, in fact, was the last maid he wanted to ask; clumsy, oblivious, and a bit…unruly. But he adored the girl in some way or another.

“Spend it wisely,” he said, a slight sarcastic undertone as he fixed his hat. He nodded to the girl and affectionately touched her shoulder in passing as he left. The door closed behind her with a quick swift bang, it echoed throughout the home.

When the silence returned and the room felt still, she looked over at the man, slumped over in the chair. “Well then,” she said, with a smile, clasping her gloved hands. “Why don’t we open some windows?” she offered, and waited for any sign of life. But he was cold. Out cold. Cautiously, she took slow, careful strides towards him. “Never in my life,” she whispered, studying how he cuddled the half-drunk bottle and slept with a gaped mouth, a stream of drool hitting the arm of the chair. Outreaching her gloved hand, she poked him. “Alright, you!” Poke, poke, poke. On the third poke, they scared each other. Arthur shot awake, thrashing the bottle about, hollering in a drunken state while Tilly jumped back finding refuge behind the matching velvet sofa.

“The fook is ‘ere?!” he yelled, dropping the bottle. Tilly gasped as glass shattered and rum splashed. When he saw no one, he allowed himself to mourn. “Me fookin’ bottle. Last fookin’ one.”

Tilly slowly peered over the couch, eyes wide. “Mr. Shelby?”

“OI!” Quickly, he looked over, their eyes connecting. “Are you a whore?” he managed to get out, perhaps a little hopeful.

“N-no, I’m not,” she said, slowly standing, hands palms up. Cautiously, they watched one another as she walked around the sofa. “Your brother, Thomas, hired me to clean your home. Thought you’d need some help-”

“Fuck off,” he said, throwing himself back on the chair, refusing to look at her. “And tell him to fook right off, too. Sick of the lot of ya, can’t leave me alone.”

Tilly knew he’d be difficult, but she overestimated her patience for it. Swallowing, she winced. “Well, um-”

“Well what!? Get it out, eh?”

“I can’t leave,” she explained. “I can’t leave, and well, for one, you live quite from from where I’d need to go and I don’t drive. And there’s no car.” She stopped talking, deciding that it was useless. “How about this!? We can open some blinds and let some sunlight in. I suppose some brightness would do you well.” She walked over to a curtain covered window and pulled it open, allowing the last bit of sunlight to come through. It brightened the place immediately. She was quite shocked to find that everything was not black, but indeed varying different colors. “You see, Mr. Shelby, doesn’t it look much better already?”

But like a bear who hadn’t seen sunlight for a winters time, he hissed out, covering his eyes. “Woman! The bloody ‘ell are you doing to me?!”

“Oh please,” she said, walking to the other window, pulling the curtain. “A little sunlight will be good for you. Then I can start cleaning up this mess. Perhaps make you a quick supper. You’ll need some food with all that alcohol in you. You’re just withering away.”

“I wish I would wither away right now,” he mumbled under his breath. “I want you to leave, Miss. Just leave and go wherever. Don’t have any bloody need for a woman that isn’t blowing me cock-”

“Vile,” she commented, pursing her lips together. She had just picked up a broom to clean the shattered glass, but she immediately put it down. “Alright, if you are just going to be that bloody stubborn, I will call your brother to come pick me up. But I warn you, Mr. Shelby, he won’t be very happy-”

“Well, he can fuck on off, too-”

“And he did,” she snipped, walking to the phone and picking up the ear piece. Tilly looked back as her finger dialed around the numbers. “And he left me here with your sorry arse. You’re a miserable one, aren’t you? And to think I remembered you kinder at one point…Hello! Mr. Shelby?”

On the other end, Tommy Shelby rubbed his temple. She hardly lasted as long as he thought. “Yes, Tilly,” he said, dropping all sense of formality. “Put him on the phone.”

Tilly called to Arthur. “Your brother would like to speak with you.” There was a groan and a crack of joints as the man slowly lifted from the chair. Wobbling over, he grabbed the phone and slammed it down. “That was quite-”

“Let me show you to your room,” he said, cutting her off. “It’s either I listen to him or I listen to you, and I’m tired of listening to him for forty bloody fuckin’ years.”

Taglist: @lau219 @vivianleighwishesshewasme @wonderlanddreamer @mysatnin @umbrielchip000

@hollyluvseveryone4ever13

@lilvampirina

@jaymcdowell

@kmc1989

@lilladygrinningsoul @fiercelittlemouse @peakyswritings @runnning-outof-time @brummiereader

#Tommy Shelby #Arthur Shelby #Peaky Blinders #Original female character #ofc #oc #fanfic #fanfiction #peaky blinders oc #arthur shelby x ofc #arthur shelby fanfiction #arthur shelby x oc

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justrainandcoffee · 2 months ago

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Omg!! Reading your reblog it helped me to remember Solace!! How much I adored that fic! Omg!! 😭❤️. But I totally understand your decision to delete it.

I'm glad to read she never leaves and that now you're sharing little things about her. ❤️❤️.

synopsis: 1924. With the advent of the new year, Evelyn has faith that her husband Arthur is ready to move past his criminal endeavours. But as it turns out, blood is thicker than water and family business is a matter of life and death. While she fights this reality, Evelyn will be tested on the tribulations of what it truly means to be a Mrs. Shelby.

pairings: Arthur Shelby x OFC; Tommy Shelby x OFC.

A/N: i don't actually plan on posting this story. yet i do wish to share snippets of Evelyn's journey since she's been living rent free in my head for over two years 😅

CHARACTER PROFILE

PENGUIN CLASSICS COVER

FAMILY ABOVE ALL by the amazing @zablife

MY SHIP IN 5 MINUTES

#arthur shelby x ofc #tommy shelby x ofc

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midnightswithdearkatytspb · 2 years ago

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“She’ll let you into the parts of herself that’ll bring you down. She’ll let you in her heart if you got a hammer and a vise. But into her secret garden, don’t think twice. // There’ll be tenderness in the air. She’ll let you come just far enough so you know she’s really there. Then she’ll look at you and smile, and her eyes’ll say she’s got a secret garden. Where everything you want, where everything you need will always stay a million miles away...” – Bruce Springsteen • “Secret Garden”

“You saved me, Beth. Perhaps it’s time you allowed me to protect you from whatever demons you allow to darken your beautiful mind.” Arthur ran his thumb over his fiancé's cheek catching the lone tear that fell.

There was still so much Arthur and Beth didn't know about each other's past, but it had been a silent agreement the past was the past, and it should stay there behind them. They were each other's future, a hope for so much more. They guided each other out of the darkness. At least Beth did that for Arthur.

“Oh Arthur, my sweet, gentle Arthur. It seems I'm having a case of melancholia. I'll be fine, especially with you at my side. I can face anything.” Beth grabbed ahold of Arthur’s hand and placed it in her lap after kissing the tips of his fingers. Times like this Arthur wished he knew Beth’s story before the Thorne club, before she came to Birmingham, but the past was the past.

“Together, we can do anything.” Arthur kissed her soft lips before pulling Beth’s gentle body into his lap and snuggled into her neck, taking in her signature lavender scent. With Beth at his side, he could take on the world, but living with her was perfect.

I hope you enjoyed this little blurb for Arthur and Beth, my OC I made for him. She belongs in my In This Heart universe. You can make a request for both Arthur x Beth and Tommy x Estella.

#in this heart #peaky blinders #arthur shelby #arthur shelby moodboard #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby x ofc #arthur shelby x y/n #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders moodboard #my moodboards #moodboards #peaky blinders x oc #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders x ofc #ktk post #ktk writes

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starlight045 · 15 days ago

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The Price of Revenge

Chapter 2

Luca Changretta x OFC

Summary: Elizabeth rushes to Polly, shaken after Luca Changretta confronts her and confides in Polly, who reassures her that the family will protect her. While Micheal gets a surprise visitor reoccurring nightmares push Elizabeth to talk to Luca and make a choice.

A/N: Thanks for some of the feedback on the first chapter! I'm almost finished with the third. This sorry is also on AO3 for my lovely friends who like to read on there too. I hope you like this chapter <3.

Elizabeth had never walked home faster in her life.

Her heels clicked hurriedly against the cobblestone ground as she practically ran into the betting den shaking her eyes watering.

With all of the noise being made Polly, Linda, and Lizzie looked over to see Elizabeth whiter than a sheet ghost coming over. Polly’s face dropped as she got up.

“Elizabeth?” Polly asked getting her niece’s attention.

“Pol…Pol he was there.” she choked out as Polly stepped closer.

“What happened? Who?” She asked holding both of her arms trying to calm her down as she found a place to sit her down.

“Luca…Luca fucking Changretta. He found me when I was buying paints.”

Polly’s heart dropped into her stomach and her eyes widened. “are you ok?”

“I mean… I don’t know. Shaken I guess.”

Elizabeth said her hands still shaking.

“What did he say?” Polly asked.

“Well, he um… He told me that uh you offered to spare everyone. Arthur, Finn, Micheal, and Ada for Tommy. But Polly you can’t do that. I understand what Tommy had done was upsetting. But at least he saved you all before it happened. He’s my brother.”

Elizabeth said shaking in her seat still her leg bouncing as her eyes watered.

“Tommy already knows about the deal,” Polly said sighing. “We came up with it shortly after we were all sent the letter.”

Elizabeth looked at her hands before looking back up at Polly.

“He told me. He told me that he wanted to marry me. That if I married him It would end the vendetta. Polly, I don’t know if I could.”

Polly felt her heart go out to her niece. Despite nobody in the Shelby family knowing about the teenage fling between Luca and Elizabeth Polly did.

She found Elizabeth the day after the Changretta boy left coming out of her room hair a mess smelling like Italian leather and sex. Her face was flushed and Polly knew.

Polly didn’t respond. She stood there sighing

“You knew already didn’t you Pol?”

Luca had made the offer to me a week ago. The first thing I did was tell Tommy. We decided you aren’t marrying him. We will make sure of it dear.”

Elizabeth nodded her head. “Did Luca believe any of this…he doesn’t seem like the type to trust anybody. Obviously.”

“He didn’t believe it anymore than I did.”

Polly told her niece as she wiped her eyes.

“I just…I don’t want anyone else to die Pol. Especially if I knew I could have prevented it. Nobody deserves to die. Not even Luca.”

Polly’s heart broke for her as she crossed the room and took Elizabeth’s face in her hands.

“Trust me. Nobody else will die. Me and Tommy have it. Don’t worry about any of this.”

Elizabeth nodded again swallowing as Polly wiped the fresh tears from her cheeks.

It was a day later when Mrs. Ross came into Tommy’s office to meet with him. She was the mother of the boy that Arthur had happened to kill during a sporting match. She had came to Tommy inviting Arthur to come celebrate her son’s 21st birthday. But something had obviously seemed off about the whole ordeal.

Tommy figured it was apart of a plan to have Arthur killed so the day of the party they set up a plan to divert Luca’s men so that Arthur wouldn’t be killed.

But waiting out they realized it was all a decoy and Luca was at the Hospital coming for Michael.

They all ran hurrying to get to the hospital. Luca had shot down the man who was standing guard and the nurse took Michael’s gun.

The tall Italian mobster slowly walked into the room shutting the doors behind him and locking them.

He looked at Micheal who was trying to stand still wobbly from healing.

“Uh, uh, uh. Where I’m from, a hat on the bed…is unlucky. My family…say it brings death. Maybe that’s what happened.”

Luca said pointing to Michael’s peaked cap on the bed as he got closer.

“Last time my men were sent for you, you got lucky. Now your lucks run out.”

He said pulling his gun and pressing it against Michael’s forehead as he looked up at Luca his eyes wide in fear.

He tried to accept death. I mean here it was. Luca Changretta was going to kill him.

Then it clicked.

And it clicked again…and two more times.

Luca continued to fire the empty gun before walking off.

As he stood in the doorway he turned looking over at Micheal one last time. “And tell your mother we have a deal.”

He told him running his finger down his left eye before winking and leaving.

And a few minutes after Luca left Tommy barged into the room coming up to Micheal.

“Micheal? What happened, eh? What happened?” Tommy asked his cousin as Micheal looked up at him.

“They heard you er…they heard you coming. The gun misfired. They ran away.” Micheal lied out of breath.

“Johnny!” Arthur called out to Johnny dogs getting his attention as they went to look for Luca.

“You came just in time,” Micheal told his cousin.

“You alright? You hurt?” Tommy asked.

“I’m fine…I’m fine.” Micheal said still panting.

Tommy then sat there staring off his mind working. Why would Changretta leave him alive? Micheal had to have been lying about something as he glanced back at his cousin.

Once he was back at Small Heath Tommy called Charlie to tell him to tell Aberama Gold and his men that the Italians were headed southbound.

Their car had been stopped by a knocked-over cart that was blocking the road, and they were told to wait.

After a while of waiting Luca got fed up and tried to go move it himself with his men but got told to wait again.

And when they got back in the car they realized Frankie’s throat was slit. Then they were being fired at and another man got killed before Luca had to turn the car around.

Late in the day, Elizabeth was painting upstairs and everyone else was finishing up for the day the phone rang. Polly went to pick it up figuring it would be one of the boys.

“Small Heath 5-5-2.” she answered

“Mrs.Gray. I wanted to illustrate to you that at any time, we can reach your son. And we will kill your son if you cannot deliver Tommy Shelby as you promised. Huh? You just tell us where and when. And we’ll do the rest. That, or you agree to my proposal. My wedding proposal.” Luca finished.

With a sigh, Polly looked at Tommy’s diary and told Luca that Friday would be the day and gave him the time before hanging up.

It was 2 AM and Elizabeth was out cold in her bed some of her oil paints uncapped and her paint pallette a mess. Her landscape portrait of Small Heath was almost finished but she would often get stuck on a painting for days.

She tossed in bed as she was going through a rather horrible dream.

It was supposed to be a few weeks later in her mind and she was getting married to Luca Changretta. But right after the priest said you may kiss the bride and Luca leaned in she woke up chest heaving.

She looked around her moonlight room in a cold sweat. The sheets were slightly damp and she shivered.

There was only one person she could talk to about this.

So walking across the street pulling her thin robe around her she knocked on Polly’s door.

After the fourth knock, Polly answered the door her eyes still full of sleep and her hair somewhat a mess.

“Eliza, what in God’s name are you doing up?”

“Pol I had a dream…a nightmare even. I need to talk to you about it. I can’t sleep without getting it out.” She said as Polly scooted aside and let her in.

Elizabeth sat right next to the empty fireplace as Polly put on a kettle of tea.

“So…you had a dream. I’m guessing someone died. And it was related to Luca.”

Polly said softly.

“No. Worse. Luca married me.”

And Polly gave her a look.

“Aunt Pol my dreams always come true you know this. I can’t marry him. I know we have a history but I can’t be with this man I don’t know him. He scares me.”

Elizabeth said wrapping her arms around her.

“Come here,” Polly said opening her arms as Elizabeth came over and sat next to Polly and hugged her.

“Trust me dear. I won’t let him touch you.”

And for the rest of that night, Elizabeth sat in Polly’s arms sipping on tea before she fell asleep on the couch.

The next day Tommy went out on business. Specifically to take out Luca and the rest of his men.

Once he drove off a truck followed behind him and he knew exactly who it was.

He parked the car in Artillery Square and the truck parked a few feet away. And within minutes the shootout started and Luca was tricked. Tommy was well prepared and more of his men were killed.

Tommy dogged the bullet several times and so did Luca.

But when the coppers showed up both Tommy and Luca were at a stalemate. Their pistols and guns pointed right at each other.

Luca looked over at his men and he and the other Italians quickly got out of there.

The police decided to let Tommy go and he went back to watery lane to tell everyone.

He spent a bit of time with Charlie first before everyone got there. Watching the little boy play with his toys.

The family was gathered in one of the rooms and of course, Arthur was the first to speak up.

“What the fuck happened today, Tom? We all heard. Shooting in Artillery Square.” He said putting down a line to snort.

“Yeah, there was. Today, I killed three men. now our enemies will have to act.”

“I suppose er…I suppose they took you by surprise, did they?” Arthur asked Tommy irritated that he had tried to kill Luca himself.

“No, I knew they were coming,” Tommy told him.

Polly spoke up next “Just after Christmas, I received a letter from Luca Changretta. Offering to spare my son, if I gave up Tommy. And I gave Tommy up.” She explained

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot, Tom,” Arthur said snorting more cocaine.

“I met up with Luca. A week ago or so. He offered not only to spare Micheal, and you two.” She said looking at both Arthur and Finn.

“But to end the vendetta completely.” she finished.

“He wants to marry Elizabeth.” Tommy put it simply.

“What?” Arthur asked shocked and angry.

“He told me he had a strong liking to her since they were kids,” Polly told him.

“He can’t marry her. Our Eliza! The same girl that swore off guns when she reached that age. She’s a kid!”

“Arthur she’s 30,” Polly said.

“Polly and I had first agreed not to tell her. Especially since we had told Luca no. But it seems he went to ask her himself.” Tommy said taking his glasses off.

“Where is Elizabeth anyway?” Ada asked noticing her older sister wasn’t there.

And when everyone fully came to their senses they feared something had gone wrong.

“Arthur, Finn check the house. Everyone check the fucking house!”

Tommy said as everyone ran about small heath looking for Elizabeth but she was nowhere to be found.

Out at the yard Elizabeth stood in her boots feeding Tommy’s new horse ‘Dangerous’.

“Are you sure you should be out here?” Curly asked grabbing more hay for the horse.

“They’ll be ok. I know what I’m doing.” She said smiling as the horse looked at her.

“Elizabeth Shelby.”

A familiar voice called out.

Turning around it was just who she was looking for. There stood Luca in his hat and black overcoat toothpick hanging from his lips. Matteo stood behind him and so did two other men.

“I thought you said we’d be alone.” She said walking over to them and Curly went to get Charlie.

“Listen doll. I don’t know if you’re gonna pull one on me like your fuckin aunt.”

Luca said looking down at her.

“What do you mean pull one? What did Polly do?”

“You haven’t heard. Huh. Your brother…Tommy and I had a little shootout. He got away. Your aunt was offering him up to me.” Luca explained.

“How about we walk,” Elizabeth said as Curly came back with Charlie who had a gun.

“What are you doing girl?” He asked her.

“Trust me, Uncle Charlie. I got this.” Elizabeth said as she told Luca to follow her.

“So you still wanna marry me?” Elizabeth asked.

“Of course. It would make this all so much easier. You could spare your family. And I would get to go home. With a new wife.”

“Do you actually love me, Luca? Be honest. Don’t say you’re doing this just because you need a wife. Or because it’s convenient.”

Elizabeth explained.

Luca just looked at her and huffed a smile. He took his toothpick out and threw it on the ground.

“Eliza…I’ve loved you since we were teenagers.” Luca started

“When I went back to New York with my father all those years ago…no woman has ever compared.”

“You’re just saying that aren’t you? That was years ago. We were kids.” Eliza sighed.

“You know Luca when you came to me in that shop and told me all of that…I was terrified. I didn’t know the man in front of me. And that scared me. Thankfully my family doesn’t just stick me in situations they don’t think I’m comfortable with.”

Elizabeth said as they walked.

“That boy I used to know. The kind one. The one that just wanted to help and not hurt a soul. He’s gone. I know it.” She finished as Luca looked at her

He gave her a look and nodded.

“Luca…I don’t know how I feel it’s complicated. But if marrying you would stop this or stop either of us getting hurt then I would be willing to try.”

Elizabeth explained.

“You haven’t changed much. But at the same time you have.” Luca smiled sadly.

“I know I might look like a monster Eliza. A horrible man. But I promise I’ll take care of you. That is if you let me.”

And for a moment Elizabeth swore she saw that old version of him again in his eyes.

Later that night around 10:40 Elizabeth came back to small heath and found everyone there waiting as they all came to check on her.

“Where were you?” Polly asked coming up and cupping her face.

“You scared us half to fuckin’ death.” Arthur scolded his younger sister.

“Im sorry. I was out with Luca. I needed to talk to him.”

As Elizabeth said this everyone looked at her as if she had two heads.

“Why would you need to talk to him? What did you both talk about?” Tommy asked.

“Well, I made my decision. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt. Yeah, I don’t know this version of him. And it still does scare me. But I’m willing to work and try If it means our families don’t fight anymore. I’m tired of this.”

Everyone looked at her and between each other concerned.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to do this.” Polly told her.

“I’m sure Aunt Pol. I’ll marry him,” she said as Polly put a hand on her arm before hugging her.

“Then let’s let Mr.Changretta know that he’ll be getting married,” Tommy said patting Elizabeth’s shoulder as he walked off.

Was she selling away her life to end this madness? This horrible bloodshed ended with three men dead. Hell, one was her own brother. Elizabeth thought she was doing the right thing.

She at least hoped she was.

#luca changretta #luca changretta x oc #luca changretta peaky blinders #polly grey #tommy shelby #original character #matteo (peaky blinders)#arthur shelby #ada shelby

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