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sansaorgana · 19 days ago

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— REVENGE IS A DISH BEST SERVED COLD

🚨 This fanfic is a repost from 06 May 2022 from my different blog. I kept the Author's Note and everything from the fic the same as it was back then.

PAIRING — Jack Nelson x Lesley Macmillan (OC)

SUMMARY — Lesley wants to solve the mystery of her older brother’s death with the help of her gangster husband Jack Nelson.

AUTHOR’S NOTE [06 May 2022] — This fic wouldn’t be posted if not for @zablife and @ celticmelody ! Thank you both so much! I clearly focused on the plot here and it’s long enough already... It’s canon compilant and a fictional explanation of the whole plot with Gina, Michael and Jack wanting to kill Tommy.

WARNINGS — suicide (like in canon), murder

WORD COUNT — 5,790

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

REVENGE IS A DISH BEST SERVED COLD

NEW YORK, 1920

Lesley Macmillan was born in 1898 in Poughkeepsie in the most ordinary family living on the most ordinary American street. They weren’t struggling with poverty but no one would call them rich either and they sometimes had trouble with finding money at the end of the month.

When she was a few years old her older brother Clive moved to New York – such a big city was giving many more opportunities in life. He was smart and intelligent but also very kind, which charmed other people. This way he quickly earned a small fortune as a banker.

Lesley wasn’t close with her brother because they grew up separately but she held great love and admiration for him in her heart. When she graduated from high school he started to send her money so she could attend typing classes and get prepared to become a secretary. After she had finished her course, Clive took her to New York and found her a job on Wall Street as a secretary of Robert Wallace – his friend and a successful broker. Lesley’s parents secretly hoped she would end up married to him but that didn’t happen. They went on a few dinner dates together but they decided to remain friends.

Lesley was nineteen when she moved to New York and at first she lived with her brother but she soon grew tired of it and he left her his flat after he had moved to the small house in the suburbs. Lesley prefered the city center where she had found female friends amongst other secretaries with whom she liked to go to the pictures or the jazz clubs.

In 1920 she was twenty two years old and she already felt like a natural born New Yorker. That was also the year of her brother’s wedding with Grace Burgess.

Grace came from Ireland. She was rich, beautiful, thin, cold and she never wanted to talk about her past. Lesley tried to befriend her but Grace’s kindness felt forced, meanwhile her physical beauty was making Lesley feel very insecure. She wasn’t thin, her hair was brown like her brother’s and she didn’t know as many fancy things as Grace. Her brother’s wife had been an only child so she didn’t understand the bond between Clive and Lesley and she was often jealous of him spending time with his little sister. Lesley felt neglected these days.

“You’re incredibly slow today, Lesley,” Robert’s voice made her look up as she realized she had been chewing on a pen for the past few minutes. “What are you, in love?”

“Oh, Bobby!” she giggled. “Me? In love? You know perfectly well that it’s not so easy for me to fall in love!”

“What is it then?”

“I was thinking of my brother’s new wife,” she sighed but Robert’s eyes sparkled.

“Oh, yes, I think of her, too, sometimes. What a sight she is…” he rubbed his hands together and Lesley winced at that. “They don’t make them like that here.”

“What do you mean by that?!” Lesley squealed.

“Oh, nothing personal. American women just don’t have class!”

“Class?! Look at you, Robert Wallace!” Lesley huffed. “You think you have class?”

He swallowed thickly and fixed his tie before rolling his eyes at his secretary. If it hadn’t been for Clive, he would have probably fired her already.

“Either way, I have a meeting with an important guest from Boston today and you haven’t even prepared coffee yet,” he pointed out.

“At your service,” Lesley stood up and walked up to the coffee machine while Robert disappeared into his personal office.

She was pissed at him for reacting this way at her mentioning Grace. She hated how everyone seemed to love her husband’s new wife but some of them did only because she was coming from Europe.

Lesley was in the middle of pouring coffee into the cup when someone opened the door rapidly and she turned around to scold whoever that was.

“Have you lost your mind, sir?!” she snapped at the tall, dark blond man who had just entered the office. “This is an office, not a barn!”

“Jesus, I’m sorry,” he rolled his eyes and smirked as she noticed a scar on his lip. “I have a meeting with Mr. Wallace,” he added in a strong Boston accent.

“I believe he’s mentioned,” Lesley fixed her cardigan and pointed at the cup of coffee. “You want one, too?”

“Would be delightful, doll,” he answered and she blushed a little at that before turning around to pour some more coffee.

“Ah!” Robert opened the door. “Mr. Nelson, yes?”

“Yes, Mr. Wallace,” they shook hands. “I am here for my boss, he stayed in Boston, he’s busy.”

“Yes, of course. He has telephoned me already. Please, come in. Lesley!”

“Bobby?” Lesley sighed.

“Bring us coffee to the office.”

“Yes, sir.”

NEW YORK, 1921

Mr. Nelson’s name was Jack and he was visiting Robert quite often while dealing with business for his boss in Boston. He was ten years older than Lesley and he was flirting with her every time for a few long weeks before he eventually asked her out. Lesley was surprised by that because she didn’t expect him to seriously like her but her sassy tongue and soft curves hidden under tight skirts had bewitched Mr. Nelson completely.

He spent New Year’s Eve in New York at the jazz club with Lesley and that was when they shared their very first kiss.

“I don’t like your new friend,” Clive winced at the dinner.

“What are you talking about?” Lesley looked up and so did Grace. She didn’t like those days when her husband’s sister was coming over for dinner so she watched them interact closely to later pick up on Lesley’s mannerisms and whine to Clive about them.

“I mean that gangster Nelson. You’re one of those silly girls now, Lesley? Dating gangsters for fun?” Clive sipped on his whiskey and gave her a scolding look as Grace moved uncomfortably.

“How dare you!” she gasped. Of course she had known about Jack’s profession but it didn’t matter to her. “He is such a gentleman around me, Clive!”

“Ah, yes. After all, you started to attend the masses for him again, am I right?” her brother teased. “He’s a Catholic like our mother but you haven’t been to church in years now, my dear sister. But I’ve heard you are going to the mass every Sunday now.”

“There is nothing wrong with being religious just because our father hates it, Clive,” Lesley rolled her eyes.

“Of course it is not,” he hummed to himself and snorted, “but how can he do all these things and still pray to God? Doesn’t it sound quite hypocritical to you? You know that our parents count on you meeting a nice man here in New York and settling down with him.”

“Girls don’t like nice men these days,” Grace commented suddenly and Lesley gritted her teeth.

“Well, I consider Jack to be nice,” she emphasized. “He buys me flowers, takes me to the pictures and he doesn’t want anything more from me than a kiss.”

“He better not!” Clive almost choked on his food as his face went red. "I would even say that the kiss is too much!"

“Clive, he comes to visit me all the way from Boston every few days. That says enough, don’t you think?” Lesley sighed.

“How did he get that scar, by the way?” Clive raised an eyebrow.

“I haven’t asked about that,” Lesley lied. “I don’t ask him about his business. I am not a copper,” she laughed and so did Clive. Grace wiped the corners of her mouth elegantly with a napkin and pursed her lips.

“I want to meet him, Lesley,” Clive cleared his throat. “Bring him over next time.”

Lesley greeted Jack by the door of her apartment and watched him take off his hat and coat before they went to the living room and sat down on the sofa.

“How was the drive?” Lesley’s manicured hand played with his tie as he furrowed his brow.

“It was good. You’re painting your nails now, doll?” Jack didn’t sound impressed.

“I’m sorry, you don’t like it?” Lesley blushed and took the hand away while looking down.

“Hey, hey….” he grabbed her hand and placed a soft kiss upon it.

“I’m sorry, I’ll wash it off,” Lesley stood up and shook her head. “I was so silly, I’m sorry… I wasn’t at church like that so don’t you think…”

“Easy, babe,” Jack chuckled at her nervousness. “I know you’re a good girl.”

“I just wanted to have nails like her…”

“Like who?” Jack raised an eyebrow. “Some actress?”

“No, Clive’s wife. Grace,” Lesley leaned back on the cabinet by the wall and sighed. “We are both invited to dinner at their place, you know. My brother wants to meet you.”

“Well, you know I’d love to,” Jack smirked and spread his legs further in a lazy manner. “What do you think he’s gonna talk to me about?”

“I think he wants to know if you’re serious about me,” Lesley bit her lower lip.

“Then, my intent will be to convince him that I damn am,” Jack winked at her and beckoned her over. “Come ‘ere, doll.”

She chuckled and approached him slowly to hold his hands and sit down on his lap. Jack pulled her closer and Lesley cupped his face.

“You’re gonna love her, too, I guess…” she sighed.

“Who?”

“Grace… All men love her,” Lesley rolled her eyes.

“Why do they?” Jack patted Lesley’s bottom playfully.

“You’ll see her and you’ll know. Oh… She’s also Irish like you…” Lesley saddened.

“Is she?”

“She’s from Galway or something,” Lesley shrugged her arms. “She’s a protestant but she’s Irish.”

“She’s a rich protestant?” Jack snorted and she furrowed her brow. “Doll, I am convinced I will fucking hate her.”

“Is it bad that it makes me happy?” Lesley giggled and Jack’s eyes warmed up at the sight as he raised his hand to fix her hair.

“No, baby, nothing that makes you happy is ever bad.”

NEW YORK, 2022

Jack got promoted in Boston – whatever it meant – and now he was carrying himself like the boss himself. Lesley didn’t mind that at all and actually she had gotten influenced with her boyfriend’s confidence and new money. He kept visiting her from Boston but nowadays she wasn’t working for Robert Wallace anymore. She now worked for Peter McCarthy who was dealing with Jack’s legal side of business in New York.

Clive wasn’t fond of his sister’s boyfriend but he didn’t hate him either. He could see that Jack was a proper gentleman around Lesley. On several occasions Jack had been assuring Clive that his sister would never be involved in any of the illegal businesses of his and he sounded very serious and concerned about the matter.

Jack and Lesley were often being invited to Clive and Grace’s house for dinners but Mrs. Macmillan never looked like she wanted to be a part of those. She still disliked Lesley – especially the brand new Lesley in expensive furs and with diamond rings on her fingers. She looked like a gangster’s chick from miles away and Grace found it cheap.

Jack didn’t like Grace either from the very start. He looked up and down with a contemptuous smirk and made a comment about “skin, bone and arrogance” a few times during the first visit. But after finding out about her father being loyal to the King of England and killed by the IRA, he started to literally hate her.

It was no wonder then why Grace didn’t like those “family dinners” the most out of them all.

“We also have to tell you something,” Clive cleared his throat after finishing his dessert as Lesley furrowed her brows. “We are going away to London for a few weeks.”

“London?!” Lesley’s eyes widened. “Goodness! What for?”

“There’s a doctor we want to see,” Clive held Grace’s hand on the table and she clenched her jaw as she didn’t want this matter to be discussed around Jack Nelson.

“What doctor?” Lesley’s cheeks became pale. “Are any of you sick?”

“No, my dear sister, no need to worry,” Clive chuckled nervously. “It’s just some brand new, experimental treatment we want to try.”

“What treatment?” Jack asked curiously and sipped on his whiskey as Grace gave him an unpleasant look.

“It’s to cure…” Clive hesitated for a moment, “...infertility.”

Lesley froze at first with a piece of cake still in her mouth. Then she swallowed it thickly and could swear that she felt like she was getting dizzy. She suddenly got angry at Clive as much as his wife for saying this out loud in Jack’s presence. She couldn’t let Jack think that her brother might have been infertile… Which only meant that she could be, too…

“Oh!” she placed another piece of cake on her plate nervously. “Well, Grace, my dear,” she cooed in a fake manner. “I am so sorry…”

“The doctor is not sure yet if it is because of me,” Grace drawled out, which made Lesley even angrier.

“Well, you know what it’s like. Skinny women always have problems with that,” Lesley stuffed her mouth with even more cake and pointed at Grace’s figure with her fork. “I’d recommend eating more instead of trying some funny London therapies.”

Grace stood up angrily and left the dining room as Clive gave his sister an angry look before following his wife.

“I’m sure it’s her fault,” Lesley told Jack quickly and he nodded silently before finishing his glass of whiskey. “Skin and bone, like you said,” she added nervously.

Those few weeks had passed very quickly. Lesley was a bit worried because her brother stopped calling her after two but Jack said he had been probably too busy with the whole therapy thing and his wife. Lesley chose to believe that and focused on her work.

On the day when Clive and Grace were supposed to come back, Jack and Lesley were waiting to pick them up. She was standing with her hands around his waist under his coat and holding him close with a dreamy expression.

“I would love to see Europe one day, too…” she sighed.

“We will, doll,” Jack answered casually as Lesley’s heart swell in her chest at his words. She blushed and squeezed him tighter.

Jack raised an eyebrow at that but he got interrupted by the sight of Clive walking towards them. Not only was he alone but he also looked like he had been to hell and back – with huge dark circles under his eyes and clothes a size too big because he had lost so much weight.

Lesley turned around and her jaw dropped.

“Clive!” She ran up to him and hugged him carefully like she was scared to break him. “Are you alright? What happened? How was the therapy? Why weren’t you calling? Where’s Grace?”

“Lesley, not here,” Jack hissed and put his arm around her. “Let’s take him home first.”

Clive didn’t answer, he only blinked a few times and held his sister’s hand. She led him to Jack’s car and sat with him in the backseat.

“Darling! What happened? Please, talk to me…” Lesley was on the verge of tears herself.

“Where’s that wife of yours, Clive?” Jack asked after starting the car.

“Grace stayed in Great Britain and that’s where she will stay from now on,” Clive answered mysteriously.

“And… And the treatment?” Lesley furrowed her brow.

“Didn’t work,” Clive turned his head around like he didn’t want her to see tears forming in his eyes.

“Oh, Clive, love, it’s not your fault…” Lesley started.

“Shut up already!” he snapped and she closed her mouth as Jack moved uncomfortably on his seat but he couldn’t intervene – Lesley was Clive’s younger sister and he had no right to scold him for raising his voice at her.

The rest of the ride was silent. They left Clive at his place and he didn’t even invite them over.

BOSTON / NEW YORK, 1922

It was a few weeks later when it happened. A few weeks of Lesley being worried about her brother’s odd behavior and Jack trying to convince her it would eventually get better.

He entered his small office in Boston and his secretary greeted him with pursed lips.

“What’s wrong, Mary?” he asked.

“I’ve left a newspaper on your desk, sir,” she answered and Jack hurried there. “Fifth page!” she added.

He opened the newspaper and found the said page. The very first thing he saw was Clive Macmillan’s picture. Ominous words were saying “Rich banker was found dead at home”.

Jack didn’t even read the article, he reached for the telephone and asked to connect him with Lesley’s apartment but she wasn’t answering.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath. “Mary, I’m leaving. I don’t know when I’ll be back,” he announced and she furrowed her brow.

“But… Mr. Nelson…!”

“It’s a family matter,” he pointed his finger at her and ran down the stairs to his car.

It was evening when he arrived in New York and Lesley opened the door still in her nightgown with her face swollen from tears. Jack cupped her cheeks immediately and pulled her closer.

“You didn’t answer the phone, doll, I was worried,” he kissed her. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…”

“Come in, Jack,” she sniffled and walked inside as he followed her and closed the door.

“What happened?”

“It took place at night,” Lesley sat down in the armchair and took a deep breath in, trying to be brave. “He shot himself. And now… Now…” her voice broke. “Now my brother is dead,” she burst into tears and Jack approached her to crouch down and put his arms around her.

“I’m so sorry…” he said again and swallowed thickly. “Did he leave any message?”

“No,” she shook her head. “But his maid says that last evening he received a phone call from London… From the hotel where he had been staying at with Grace…”

“Do you think it has something to do with her?” Jack asked.

“I don’t know… I don’t know anything…” Lesley shook her head dramatically. “Oh, Jack, why did he do that…? I loved him, I loved him so much and now he’s not here anymore…?”

Jack lost a brother and sister once. He knew what Lesley had been going through and he knew that nothing could really heal her heart except for time. He held her closer and kissed the top of her head.

“What will you do now?” he asked in a whisper.

“I’m going back home. I want to spend some time with my family,” she told him and he nodded. “Then… I’m not sure. I know I work for you here but I don’t know yet if I’d want to come back to New York, Jack…”

“It’s alright, doll, don’t think about it,” he wiped her wet cheeks with his thumbs. “Would you like Boston?”

“B-Boston?” she raised her eyebrow.

“It’s closer to Poughkeepsie,” he explained.

“But what would I do in Boston? Work for you?” She made puppy eyes filled with fresh tears.

“No, not work, doll,” Jack shook his head and smiled softly. “I’ll take you to your parents tomorrow, alright? I’ll drive you there myself.”

“Oh, Jack, you don’t have to!” Lesley gasped and clutched onto his jacket.

“And when we arrive there, I’m gonna ask them for their permission to marry you. Alright, doll?” he asked seriously.

He couldn’t leave Lesley Macmillan alone now. He had to take care of his girl.

“Oh… Oh, you’re serious, Jack?” her eyes widened and he nodded. “Oh, baby!” she pressed her cheek to his chest and cried some more. He caressed the back of her head.

“We’re gonna find out what happened to Clive, I promise,” he added.

“Jack…” Lesley looked up and he furrowed his brow. “If he’s dead because of someone else’s harm done to him… Please, promise me that we will avenge him…”

Jack made a surprised face at those words. Lesley had never mentioned his profession or anything related to it before.

“We will, doll,” he assured her. “But we don’t talk about it out loud like that, yes?”

“Yes, Jack, I’m sorry.”

BOSTON, 1922

Jack hired a private detective who would solve the mystery of Clive’s death. Not only did he want his new wife to finally be in peace but he was also curious himself.

Now she was decorating a Christmas Tree for their first Christmas spent together as the married couple.

“Be careful there, doll,” Jack approached her from behind when she was standing on the stool. He put his arms around her waist and caressed her belly where their first child had been growing.

“I am careful, Jack,” Lesley sighed. “But I’d love your help, you’re taller than me,” she handed him a few decorations and he nodded before helping her to step down on the floor. Then he proceeded to decorate the high parts of the Christmas Tree. “How was work?” she asked him and put her hand on her abdomen protectively.

“Good,” Jack cleared his throat and she furrowed her brow.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Jack sighed. “I just… Well… I don’t know if I should tell you.”

“Why? Now you must tell me!” Lesley’s eyes widened. “What is it, Jack? Are you going to jail?!” she squealed and he chuckled.

“No, doll, don’t worry ‘bout stuff like that!” He approached her to kiss her forehead. “It’s about Clive,” he explained and she gasped. “The detective visited me today.”

Lesley walked up to the sofa and sat down with a clenched jaw. Jack followed her and took a seat next to his wife’s while gently holding her hands.

“Please, don’t get nervous. It’s bad for the baby,” he said and she nodded her head silently. “When they were in London, Grace had an affair with an old lover of hers. A man with whom she had already had a past. She got pregnant with him and left Clive,” Jack explained slowly.

Lesley didn’t react at first. She was too shocked and hurt to do anything other than staring at the wall in front of them.

“She humiliated my brother,” she swallowed thickly. “She made him feel worthless. You’re a man, Jack, you tell me. What would you do?”

“Kill that guy.”

“But Clive wasn’t like you. He was… He was a good man,” Lesley’s voice broke.

“I am not?” Jack furrowed his brow. She had always been saying that in her eyes he was good and kind.

“No, you’re not,” Lesley shook her head and laid her eyes on her husband. “And I don’t want you to be,” she stated. “Who’s that man?”

“Now, that’s the best part,” Jack chuckled nervously. “That man is a fucking gangster, baby. He’s a street hoodlum from Birmingham. They had a baby boy a few weeks ago.”

“The audacity! Oh, now I am convinced that Clive didn’t kill himself. They did it to get rid of him!” Lesley stood up so rapidly that she got dizzy. Jack stood up as well and held her in place. “Jack, I can’t stand it… I can’t…”

“Can’t stand what, doll?”

“Can’t stand to live in a world where people like them are alive,” she took a deep breath in and looked at him. Her face was filled with pain and desperation. “She came here, married my brother for his money… Or just because she wanted to be a New York wife like them all, who knows… Then she used him, left him, betrayed him and humiliated him… Jack, I love you, I love you madly but…” Lesley tried to find the right words, “...but how could she fucking cheat on Clive with a man like that?! What was so bad about Clive? Don’t tell me it was about having a baby, it’s never just about a baby, I am a woman, I know it is not… Clive was just plain, you know? He was boring. But I loved him for that… They killed him just because he was too good! And I loved him for his kindness… I loved him, I lov–” she eventually burst into tears and Jack held her trembling figure close to shush her.

“Are you still sure you want to avenge him?” he whispered.

“Why would I change my mind?” Lesley furrowed her brow and sniffled.

“Because I don’t want to stain you with my sin,” he caressed her cheek gently.

“Avenging a brother is no sin, Jack,” Lesley clenched her jaw. “To me belongeth vengeance and recompence; their foot shall slide in due time: for the day of their calamity is at hand, and the things that shall come upon them make haste,” she quoted fiercely as her eyes sparkled. “Deuteronomy, 32:35.”

“We are not God,” Jack reminded her.

“But we can get our hands dirty to do his work,” she moved away to pour herself some water as Jack watched his wife with widened eyes. “You know, that’s funny,” she chuckled nervously and sipped from the glass.

“What is, doll?” he asked awkwardly.

“Back then I would never… I would never come up with that. But since I’m going to church, it’s so much easier, you know Jack? You just find the right chapter in the Bible and you have your excuse to sleep peacefully at night.”

BOSTON, 1924

“Clive, don’t!” Lesley scolded her one year old son and grabbed him away from the fireplace. “You’re becoming such a troublemaker these days, young man,” she chuckled and the baby laughed back, warming her heart.

Their little moment got interrupted by the noises coming from Jack’s home office. He slammed his fist on the wooden surface of his desk and cursed loudly at something. Lesley rolled her eyes.

“Bad daddy,” she told her son. “He’s such a hot head, isn’t he?” she giggled and Clive giggled as well.

The telephone in Jack’s office rang again and he answered. Lesley took their child outside to the garden and started showing her son the flowers she had planted with her maid’s help a few weeks earlier.

“...and those are roses but be careful,” she pushed the little, chubby hand away. “They have thorns, my boy,” she smiled and kissed the top of the baby’s nose.

She turned around and saw Jack leaning on the wall of their house. He waved at her and she waved back before walking up to him with Clive in her arms.

“Good news, doll,” Jack smirked. “We got an opportunity.”

“What opportunity?” Lesley smiled at her husband and handed him the baby.

“To do the thing,” he answered mysteriously and disappeared inside the house.

His wife furrowed her brow. What could he possibly mean…? Did he mean avenging her brother…? Jack had always been saying that they should wait for the right moment. It was like an obnoxious mantra; being repeated over and over to the point where she stopped believing he would ever actually do anything.

She entered the house and saw their maid already walking out the room with little Clive as Jack gestured Lesley over to sit with him on the sofa.

“What’s going on, babe?” she asked and crossed her arms after sitting down.

“I have contacts in New York,” Jack lowered his voice. “The Italian Changretta family has bad blood with Thomas Shelby of Birmingham. Part of their family lives there and a few years back they lost their influence because of him. Now he and his family are disrespecting the Changrettas again with no reason. They are sick of him.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It will be taken care of,” Jack nodded and squeezed her thigh. “Next week there is a huge charity party. Lots of people, chaos. Thomas and Grace Shelby will lose their lives.”

“Grace Shelby?” Lesley winced. “They’re married now?”

“Yes, they got married recently.”

“Oh, wonderful. Since my brother is dead they can get married and have their happily ever after,” Lesley commented bitterly. “Now I am convinced they killed my brother. So, it’s their honeymoon?” she smirked. “Not for long.”

“What about the child?” Jack swallowed thickly like he was scared of the answer.

“I thought you would never harm a child,” Lesley furrowed her brow.

“I would not but you are in charge of this operation, which is of course just between us two. I would never put you in trouble,” he assured his wife.

“Let the child be,” Lesley decided. “He’s cursed enough already with parents like that.”

Jack was sitting behind his desk while sipping on whiskey and smoking a cigar. Lesley was walking in circles all over his office and playing nervously with her fingers. It was afternoon for them but in Birmingham it was evening and the night of the very important charity gala.

“O Lord God, to whom vengeance belongeth; O God, to whom vengeance belongeth, shew thyself,” Lesley kept whispering to herself the words of one of the Psalms over and over, while desperately convincing herself that what they had been doing was not wrong. “Lift up thyself, thou judge of the earth: render a reward to the proud.”

For Jack it was routine but he didn’t judge his wife for her nervousness and doubts. The first man he had ever killed was a priest. He was already doomed.

The phone rang and Lesley jumped a little. Jack shook his head at her and picked up the handset.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Changrettas say fifty-fifty, boss. The Queen’s down. The King still remains.”

“Alright, thank you,” was all Jack answered to the enigmatic message and put the phone down.

“And?! And?!” Lesley squealed.

“Grace is dead. Thomas is not,” Jack shook his head and watched her face carefully.

It seemed like his wife had just gone through the whole range of emotions. From shock and anger to disbelief and excitement.

“Well, that’s both pleasant and disappointing,” she admitted and fixed her skirt nervously. “At least he’s going to be in pain for some time until we get him, yes?”

“Lesley, I’m not sure,” Jack sighed and she clenched her jaw. “What I’m saying is that it might be difficult to take him down just like that. We might need lots of patience and time. He is an important figure and after failing once we should wait longer to strike again. You understand, doll? It’s not easy to kill the boss.”

“How do you know?!” Lesley snapped.

“Because I am the boss,” he chuckled and stood up to put his arms around her. “My love, let’s celebrate the half of our victory now, yes? Revenge is a dish best served cold. We can wait,” he tried to convince her, “and while we wait he is in pain and grief that I can not even imagine,” Jack kissed the top of his wife’s head. “And I never will because I keep my wife safe.”

BOSTON, 1929

Lesley lit a cigarette as the maid put a silver tray on the table between her and Gina.

“Thank you, Maude,” Lesley smiled at the maid.

“Mrs. Nelson, Clive should be back from school soon, while Peter and Stephanie are hungry so I’ll be making dinner now.”

“That’s wonderful, Maude, thank you,” Lesley nodded at her and watched her walk away.

“So, you say that Uncle Jack is where…?” Gina rolled her big brown eyes.

“Jack’s in Washington now,” Lesley took a sip from the porcelain cup.

“Shame. I wanted to speak to him,” Gina huffed.

“About?” Lelsey raised an eyebrow.

She used to be annoyed by her husband’s nieces and nephews – always coming over, asking for favors and money. Gina was absolutely the worst. But with time – and age – Lesley learnt to take them all in with patience and even a dose of loving.

“Lesley…” Gina giggled and her aunt furrowed her brow. “Well, I’ve met someone.”

“Oh dear,” Lesley put the cup down and sighed.

“What?!”

“Jack won’t like that.”

“I know that he hates all my boyfriends,” Gina winked and Lesley rolled her eyes, “but you have to convince him about that one. Michael’s really cute.”

“Michael?” Lesley smiled. “Oh, so you can call him Mikey?”

“He actually hates that!” Gina chuckled. “He’s British, you know… Dealing with his family’s business here.”

“Oh, I see,” Lesley nodded. “British, you say? What’s his name?”

“Nothing special,” Gina shrugged her arms. “Michael Gray. He’s obsessed with me, Lesley! My every wish is his command!” she giggled devilishly. “I fucking love that!”

“Gina…” Lesley scolded her and sighed while shaking her head. “Is he a gentleman?”

“Well, he’s British. He’s short but I can live with that. And he’s handsome… Oh, so handsome…!” Gina added with a dreamy expression on her face. “Lesley, please, tell Jack to hire him!”

“For that we don’t know that boy well enough yet!” Lesley reminded her.

“Tell Jack that Michael might actually be useful. His cousin is a powerful gangster back there in Great Britain,” Gina smirked mysteriously and Lesley squinted her eyes at her.

“He’s a gangster, that Michael of yours?”

“You ask me like it’s a bad thing,” Gina huffed.

“I don’t mean that. I mean that relationships between the families are a delicate thing,” Lesley reminded her. “Gina, please, don’t do anything stupid without consulting your uncle.”

“I know!” Gina crossed her arms. “That’s why I came here but he’s not fucking home!”

“Well, Jack’s working,” Lesley cleared her throat. “I will tell him about your boyfriend the moment he arrives home.”

“Okay, good,” Gina stood up without even looking at the tea waiting for her on the tray. “I’ll be leaving then.”

“So soon?” Lesley pretended to be sad.

“Yeah, I’m meeting with my friends this evening.”

“Alright,” Lesley stood up to hug Gina goodbye.

“Oh, by the way,” the younger woman smirked as her aunt furrowed her brow, “tell uncle Jack that Michael’s cousin is named Thomas Shelby. They’re from Birmingham. Maybe he’s heard of him,” she finished innocently as Lesley froze.

“Thomas Shelby?” Lesley’s voice broke as she was trying to make sure she had heard that right.

“Yes, should I write it down for you?” Gina asked.

“No need.”

MASTERLIST

#jack nelson x oc #peaky blinders oc #lilysfiction

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zablife · 2 years ago

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My Blog Turns 1 Today!!!

One year ago today, I posted my first one shot, an angsty Bonnie Gold fic I wrote during a sleepless night. Since then I've posted approx 100 fics (more if you include headcanons and blurbs) and 50 moodboards for three diff fandoms. (And I'm still going! Here's my current WIP list.) Somewhere along the way, people started reading my stories and I met some truly amazing, talented moots. Despite the occasional moments of anxiety, doubt and sheer panic, this little hobby makes me ridiculously happy! My interaction with all of you makes it even better so thank you for the love and support 😘

In honor of this milestone, share a memory of how we first interacted OR something you've come to associate with my blog. (Tagging some moots below the cut.) If you're an anon, take the opportunity to introduce yourself via comment or message in my inbox. I'd love to meet you!

@shelbydelrey, @look-at-the-soul, @runnning-outof-time, @raincoffeeandfandoms, @solomons-finest-rum, @peakyswritings, @christinasyellowflowers, @celticmelody, @theshelbyclan, @theshelbyslimited, @springsteens, @madame-wilsonn, @amysteryspot, @cillmequick, @murderousginger, @noforkingclue, @notyour-valentine, @there-goes-thefighter, @moral-terpitude, @pherelesytsia, @gypsy-girl-08, @the-makingsofgreatness, @flysafepapi, @evita-shelby, @wandawiccan60, @hauntedheathcliff, @buttercupsandboys, @dandelionprints, @dreamlandcreations, @mgcldydrms, @l1-l4, @mythos-writes, @dearshelby

#zablife turns 1

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midnightswithdearkatytspb · 2 years ago

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MidnightsWithDearKatyTSPB’s Recommendation List: March PT. 2

Welcome to part 2 of March’s recommendation list. Down below, you can find the link to take you back to part 1 featuring Peaky Blinders, Frankie Morales from Triple Frontier, Frank Castle, and the works that I posted. I still have some specialists that I’m traveling to go see, so there might not be 32 links this time around, but we’ll have to wait and see. The goal for March is to write another chapter In This Heart and rewrite The Spark. If you are interested in having your writing challenges featured here, or your stories, or even just your blog, please feel free to tag me in your works, message me, or use the hashtag MidnightWithDearKatyTSPB. I hope you are having an amazing March and you didn’t have such a hard time springing ahead.

☘️ March '23 Pt. 1

April '23 Pt. 1 🌸

Masterlist

37 of 44 Years (Moodboard) ... Dedication to my parents.

All For You My Daisy (Moodboard) >> Garret Hedlund, Pedro Pascal, and Tommy Shelby

Begin Again (Moodboard) >> Ted Lasso x OFC!Penny Fletcher | Moodboard made for @teds-mustache-wrangler story Begin Again.

Innocence and Sadness (Moodboard) >> Arthur Shelby ... dedicated to @cillmequick

Peaky x Lana Challenge (Moodboard) >> Alfie Solomons x Reader x Tommy Shelby | “I’ve got a black limousine and two gentlemen who escort me through these halls.”

Two Broken Souls (Moodboard) >> Tommy Shelby x OFC!Estella Holland | “Come, Josephine in my flying machine. Going up, she goes, up she goes.”

Update//Calm Down by All Time Low (Moodboard) >> Garrett Hedlund, Luke Grimes, and Pedro Pascal

ONE-SHOTS:

As His Daughter by @sneakyblinders >> Dad!Tommy Shelby x Reader ft. Daughter!Kate Shelby - Summery: As Kate Shelby becomes an older sister yet again, she realizes she doesn't really know her father. Her mother is on a mission to change that. | You'll go through the emotions with this one, I promise. For those who need the warning, there are mentions of childbirth!

Loving Girl by @valentine-in-my-quinjet >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: You've always known you would be a better partner for Tommy. After Grace died, you had to reassess your motivations for being close to Tommy because he needed a friend more than ever before. | You will need a tissue with this one. TW: Suicide Mentioned

Make Your Heart My Home by @look-at-the-soul >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summery: Y/N hasn't had the best life. In fact, she's physically running from it into the physical arms of one Tommy Shelby, who saves her. | Read this, get a little emotional, but fall in love with its ending.

Mr. Girraffe by @teenwolf-theoriginals >> Dad!Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Florence's giraffe gets lost in Johnny Dogs camp. | The family dynamic in this is quite adorable, and I love how sweet Tommy is as well.

The Perfect Team by @runnning-outof-time >> Arthur Shelby x Reader - Summary: Arthur's ability to reason with (Y/N)'s child has them realizing that they work rather well together. | This is absolutely adorable and light-hearted, definitely recommend reading it.

'Teach You a Lesson by @celticmelody >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: you’re soon to marry Thomas Shelby, the infamous horseman amongst the gangsters in Birmingham. however, when he finds out you’ve never ridden before, he makes it a task to teach you… amongst other lessons that unravel afterwards. | If all riding lessons with Tommy were to end this way, I would take them every day as well. 🥵

When One Heart Breaks The Other, Follows by @little-diable >> Tommy Shelby x Reader | Summary: Tommy has been at war for months, and the only thing the reader can cling to is the letters he kept writing. Until the day when he no longer writes to her, when she no longer knows if he's alive or not. All until one last letter finds its way to her. | I've been emotional lately, okay? So did I need tissues when I read this? Yes! But was I smiling by the end? YES!

SERIES:

*A Different Sort of Man Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 by @evita-shelby >> Tommy Shelby x OFC!Eva, Canon!Tommy x Grace Burgess - Summary: Or where Eva plays around with magic, and Tommy wakes up in a universe where Grace is his wife. While in that universe, Tommy discovers just how different his life would have been if he had pursued the pretty witch in 71 Watery Lane. | My mother always warned me growing up to never fiddle with magic, but this just makes me want to... Only two chapters in, and it's so good. The switching of points of view is everything I could have asked for.

The Photographer // Part 13 by @midnightmagpiemama >> Modern!Tommy Shelby x Photographer!Reader - Summary: Hired to take pictures of your boyfriend's cousin's wedding, you are excited to spend the night in the presence of your boyfriend doing what you love. The night, however, doesn't go as according to plans. Or, the one where Gina and Micheal get married, Gina sits Lizzy at Tommy's table. And people have opinions on your relationship with Tommy. | Erin is such a fantastic writer, and I truly love this series. In this chapter, she just captures Tommy and Polly so beautifully.

A Royal Wedding of Small Heath Part 1 // Part 2 by @sneakyblinders >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Tommy is getting married in what the newspaper is calling The Royal Wedding of Small Heath with the announcement of their engagement. It's fitting, as his wife is his Queen. | If I had to picture my wedding to Tommy, this is exactly how I would want it to go. I love how some parts came straight from the TV show. It was just perfect.

Welcome to Downtown, Mr. Shelby by @notyour-valentine >> Tommy Shelby x Crawley!OC - Summary: He was born on a boat, with neither of his parents sure of the date after the fact, unregistered and unlisted until he went to fight for his country. Her birth had been celebrated with the ringing of church bells, champagne toasts, and announcements in newspapers on both sides of the Atlantic. Their worlds could not have been more different, and perhaps that was why, when Thomas Shelby looked at Lady Charlotte Crawley, he saw more than her title, more than her looks- he saw an opportunity. | Enjoyed reading this and emerging myself into this little world, and look forward to what is to come for Charlotte and Tommy.

SERIES:

*Push & Pull // Chapter 4: Coming Of Age by @milkymoon2483 >> Frank Castle X Plus Size Jewish OC Hannah Friedman - Summary: You’re going back to your small town for your father’s funeral and Shiva. You know you’re about to face family drama, but what worries you the most is that you’re going to see HIM, your dad’s long-time friend and probably the most attractive man you have ever met. When Frank finally sees you and realizes that you're all grown up, he struggles with accepting his budding feelings for you. | This chapter had me feeling so many emotions. You start with a stomach drop, then you feel so sad, and then you end it on a great high, needing a tall glass of water to cool down. Anna knows how to make you feel every emotion that the main character is going through at every moment of the chapter. That is a true talent.

Triple Frontier:

🍑 Appeteaser Benny Miller + Shower Sex by @dameronscopilo >> Benny Miller x Reader - Summary: Benny comes home after a long day and enjoys some time with his girl. | Let me just say this is really hot, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Here With Me by @pasukiyo >> Frankie Morales x f!reader - Summary: When your husband promises it will only be one week, your gut tells you it won't, you beg him to stay if not just for you, but for your family. (Horrible summary by me) | This starts off so sad and emotional, and it ends on a spicy note. It's perfect.

A Proposition by @dameronscopilot >> Santiago "Pope" Garcia x f!reader x Benjamin "Benny" Miller - Summary: Benny returns to Florida after six months of backpacking his way across Australia, and the surf and sun have treated him well. Very well. You can't help but notice. ...Santiago thinks that maybe it's time for the two of you to change things up in the bedroom. Because if he's going to share you with anyone, it's most certainly going to be Benjamin Miller | Is it just me, or is it really HOT in here right now? 🥵 I think I better go open the window after reading this one.

Untitled Sick!fic with Benny by @dameronscopilot >> Benny Miller x Reader - Summary: benny knows exactly what you need when you're sick—in more ways than one. | If Benny ever wants to come to take care of me like this when I'm sick, or now even, he's more than welcome.

"Wear whatever you want, I can fight." by @plaguedoctorsmistress >> Benny Miller x Reader - Summary: When your boyfriend can’t seem to do anything but whine about your outfit, Benny’s jealousy finally gets the best of him, and he takes matters into his own hand. | Benny can defend my honor any day and call me princess all he wants.

*The Wedding Party by @goodwithcheese >> Frankie Morales x f!reader - Summary: Series Summary: A combined bachelorette/bachelor party introduces you to a brown-eyed pilot. | I loved this series so much that I read it in one night on AO3 when I came across it. I'm so glad it came up on my dashboard so I could share it with you guys here. It's both fluffy and sexy!

You Again?! by @theunbearableweightofpedropascal >> Benny Miller x Reader - Summary: You keep running into the guy you had sex with in an airport bathroom. | If you looking for some good spiciness and a mixture of giggles, this one is for you.

CILLIAN MURPHY:

Chances Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, & Part 4 by @creativepawsworld >> Cillian Murphy x OFC!Paige - Summary: A single mother meets an unlikely lover after a concert. Putting herself out of her comfort zone. Can she find herself a mate for life? | The story has everything in it, fluff, a little bit of angst, and some spiciness.

Quicky by @peakyscillian >> Cillian Murphy x Fem!Reader - Summary: Cillian just can't wait. | If you are looking for something romantic, hot, and with a dash of laughter, this is it.

GERALT OF RIVIA:

Late Bloomer by @cherienymphe >> Alpha!Geralt x Omega!Reader - Summary: Geralt of Rivia saves you from more than just a werewolf attack. | Sometimes, a one-shot is so good you share it twice with your followers. I'm pretty sure I shared it when I first started doing recommendations, and I'm sharing it again.

PEDRO PASCAL CHARACTERS:

Chokehold by @psychedelic-ink >> Joel Miller x Reader x Ezra - Summary: Joel’s frustrations run deep; to him, you were a twisted source of purity; touching you forced him to think, forced him to feel. But not Ezra. With him, he could do anything. A scary yet also exhilarating feeling. Or alternatively: You wake up to Joel and Ezra having sex. | The emotions you feel while reading this are just too good for me not to share.

I Forgot About Time and Space by @psychedelic-ink >> Ezra x Fem!Reader - Summary: You cook for Ezra's guests, and seeing the sight of you being so domestic awakens something in him. | The smut in this *chef's kiss* and the plot in general. Please read this when you are alone. You'll thank me later.

*The Infinity Cube by @littlemisspascal >> Marcus Pike x Reader ft. Various Pedro Characters - Summary: When you play with a strange cube, you’re transported out of your current reality with your boyfriend Marcus into brand new ones starring alternate versions of your boyfriend who look and act entirely different every time. With each encounter, you start to wonder if you’ll ever make it back to your real universe? | Such a good use of the Multiverse and it introduced me to characters that Pedro played that I haven't yet watched. Rae does an amazing job keeping you at the edge of your seat and passing off such deep emotions. It's a must read for Pedro Pascal fans.

*Meet The Millers by @musings-of-a-rose >> Joel Miller x Benny Miller x Will Miller x f!reader - Summary: Moving into the Boston Quarantine Zone after nearly 20 years on the outside takes some adjusting. A misdirection one night guides you to the 3 men who will change the course of your life. | This series has a little bit of everything from drama to love and spiciness. There isn't much more you could ask for out of this series other than wishing for more.

When You're Reading Me by @psychedelic-ink >> Joel Miller x Reader - Summary: If you had to make a list of things Joel Miller might buy you as a gift— nipple clamps would not be a part of it. | *Internally screams* This was really hot, and I think I'll go grab a cold shower now.

STRANGER THINGS:

The Grief of Losing Eddie Munson by @eufezco >> Steve Harrington x Reader - Summary: Best friends with Eddie Munson, the reader goes through the stages of grief of losing her best friend with her family at her side. | Someone pass me the box of tissues. This was so good. I cried through almost the whole thing.

MOODBOARDS:

My Luck by @forgottenpeakywriter >> Tommy Shelby x Reader

My Sun, My Moon and All My Stars by @zablife >> Tommy Shelby x OFC!Aurora Sabini | Lee puts together a breathtakingly beautiful moodboard for a what-if scenario in the Peaky Blinders universe. It leaves you wanting to read more and more for the couple.

Your Bread by @forgottenpeakywriter >> Alfie Solomons x Reader

Your Eyes by @forgottenpeakywriter >> Tommy Shelby x Reader

You Like That by @dearshelby >> Tommy Shelby x Reader | Tall glass of cold water to cool down, please!

@psychedelic-ink - SIL, is such an amazing writer, writing most recently for Pedro Pascal's characters and sharing her amazing works with us here. Her masterlist includes more than just Pedro's characters, having written for the MCU and Oscar Isaac, to name a couple. I love the emotions you feel through every piece of writing she puts out, and I have yet to find a piece I don't like. I think you'll find you like or perhaps love her writing just as much as I do.

@shelbydelrey - Isa is a Peaky Blinder writer whose work I enjoy reading and love seeing the moodboards she puts out as well. I would definitely give Isa a follow because she brings positivity to your dashboard with her reviews and welcoming spirit.

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zablife · 2 years ago

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To those on my tag list (under the cut): Check out this amazing fic about wartime Tommy!! I contributed the three letters Tommy writes to his love! I hope you enjoy this collaboration between @little-diable and me. Let us know in comments, reblogs or asks! 😘

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@wandawiccan60

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@callsign-fangirl

@christinasyellowflowers

@notyour-valentine

@theshelbyclan

@areyenotfondofmelobster

@polishcrazyone

@elenavampire21

@dreamlandcreations

@moral-terpitude

@raincoffeeandfandoms

@rangerelik

@acewritesfics

@look-at-the-soul

@cillmequick

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@celticmelody

@floraroselaughter

@dandelionprints

@l1-l4

@kmhappybunny240

@literishdegree99

@padfootdaredmetoo

@writeroutoftime

@mootiemoose

@babaohhhriley

@amysteryspot

@lothbrokcore

When one heart breaks the other follows - Tommy Shelby

I had this idea for a while, and I am super happy with the way this turned out. A massive thank you to @zablife for writing the letters for this fic, thank you for adding your personal touch to this story. I adore you. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tommy has been at war for months, the only thing the reader can cling to are the letters he kept writing. Until the day where he no longer writes to her, where she no longer knows if he's alive or not. All until one last letter finds its way to her.

Warnings: 18+, descriptions of smut, angst, crying and lots of pain, but a happy ending, mentions of the war

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (3k words)

She could still remember how he feels, the soft hands dancing up her naked side in the early morning hours when nobody’s awake, not even the ones without a home roaming the streets. She could still remember how she smells, the soft scent of tea sticking to his lips, a constant reminder of the calm hours shared in the home they were once supposed to raise their kids in together. She still could still remember how his voice sounded, soft like a new instrument that hasn’t been played for long, clear like a poet perfectly able to express their longings.

Mere fractions of Tommy Shelby (y/n) had to cling to now that he was no longer at home, not even in their country.

He had left for war months ago, and yet sometimes it felt as if he was only a few rooms down from their shared bedroom. As if they had tumbled into a fight, needing to chase the distance before they’d spiral into something they couldn’t pull away from. Sometimes it felt as if he’d stumble into their home any moment now, drunk from the endless hours he had spent with his brothers, enjoying a carefree life that wouldn’t leave them traumatised. Nothing but wishful thinking of hers.

She missed him, god, her heart was aching for the man she had once promised her life to. There was no doubt that she’d wait for him, the thought of turning towards other men that hadn’t been sent to war left her insides churning, there was no doubt that she loved Tommy like she had loved him all those months ago when he had been around. And yet she envied the women whose men were still around. She envied the lives they were able to share, the love they felt with every rising of the sun.

Tommy hadn’t promised her much, he hadn’t promised that he’d make it out without wounds and scars gracing his skin, but he had promised to somehow keep in touch. She clung to the address he had clumsily scribbled down moments before passing their threshold, the only way to reach him. Panic would rise in her system whenever she thought about losing the one piece of paper she had copied numerous times, the only thing she could cling to, the only thing she could remember Tommy actually touching.

At first she had received a handful of letters from him, letters she’d reread every single night, while planning her own letters she’d write to him. Her fingers would trace Tommy‘s words, the way he expressed his love and longing for her; a dull ache would stretch through her whenever she read the letters, a pain so bittersweet she couldn’t stop herself from torturing herself.

It had turned into some kind of routine for her, she’d shrug out of her dress, undo her hair and wear one of Tommy’s old dress shirts - breaking laws a woman like her could pay no mind to. Trembling hands would open the wooden box she used to store his letters in, and for a few seconds she’d stare at the letters, starting with the one she knew by heart:

“Dear Y/n,

I just received your letter and was very pleased to have the distraction. I had reconciled myself to reading the same letters over and over again, not knowing if the post would find us. We’re not in the same place, in fact we don’t stay anywhere very long. We’ve been travelling through terrible weather for four days and nights and we’re up to our knees in mud and water. Despite, Arthur, John and I are well and our boots have not worn as quickly as Aunt Polly feared.

I hope this finds you in good health and you have all that you need in light of the shortages. I’ve been promoted to Sergeant so I’ll be sending more money soon. If you have need of anything, I want you to be able to get it without worry.

At night as I lie awake, I remember you and me as we were before I went away, happy and carefree. I would fight this war in any condition, without complaint, if that is how you could remain. You’re constantly in my thoughts and dreams, the only person I long to see in the world. When I return, we’ll take the horses through the fields and down to the stream as we used to, riding until sunset. That is my promise to you. Stay strong, my darling, as I know you are. All my love, Tommy”

Tears would run down her cheeks, at first her body had been overwhelmed by the waves of sadness clashing through her, never had she experienced a pain so strong, but somehow it got easier with time. Somehow she had adjusted to the sensation that left her breathless, making her feel something besides the dull ache that stuck around like a friend that would never leave one's side. And yet, (y/n) wouldn’t be able to thumb through the letters she had collected over the months, laughing at the shared memories he kept mentioning, how he expressed his love and longing.

Somehow she had managed to find beauty in the pain, in the darkness she had been dragged into from the moment Tommy had been called to war. She could still remember the last day they spent together, cherishing the calm moments with her ear pressed against his naked chest, listening to the beat of his heart, roaring in his chest as if the strong muscle could already feel the pain coming upon the two lovers.

“I love you, don’t ever forget that.” Tommy had murmured as he had moved with her close, allowing one another to relish in the lust thumping through their veins, needing to feel their shared high for one last time. Her moans had echoed through their bedroom, nails scratching at his shoulders, leaving marks he’d be able to trace even days after leaving Birmingham.

The moment hadn’t been rushed, it had been filled with emotions one could only envy, not able to feel something this raw and yet so simple. He had fucked her with his eyes not straying from her features once, praying that he’d forever remember her lust-drunken appearance. One he’d take to grave if he had to.

Their love hadn’t been perfect, but it had been theirs, only theirs to feel, to share, to cherish. She wouldn’t trade her time with Tommy, the man she had known since she had been a child, for the world, all (y/n) could do was pray that he’d find his way back to her, soon.

Over time (y/n) couldn’t help but notice how Tommy’s letter grew shorter, no longer filled with the emotions she shared with him, even with the growing distance between them. No longer did he talk about his days, the men and women he met whenever they rested. She could tell that he was growing distant, full of hatred for the countries forcing simple men like him to fight for a war that seemed endless.

“Dear Y/n, I’m sorry it’s been so long, but present conditions do not offer much chance of writing any letters. We are in a place now where the night stretches on endlessly and it seems no matter how long or what you have been through they are never done with you.

I see the frustration of it building within Arthur most. He has fits of anger, followed by long silences, as though he no longer cares if a bullet finds him. There are days I feel it as well, the pull of the inevitable and I wonder if I will ever see you again. I should write something more courageous for you, but as you’re the only person I want, you’re the only one I could tell. All my love, Tommy”

Even though (y/n) could tell that he was no longer the same Tommy that had left their shared home all those months ago, (y/n) couldn’t help but await his return back home. She needed him, every part of the man she’d dream of late at night, of a better life without the war keeping them apart. It could be so simple, so raw, and someday they’d get to share this life – together.

It was afternoon by the time (y/n) found her way outside, naked feet patting along the warm soil of their garden. Dark clouds were gracing the sky, carrying rain that would eventually clash down to earth like the tears she had cried just hours ago, desperate for relief. Exhaustion clung to her, a tiredness she was all too familiar by now, a steady companion in those times where she felt lonely, so awfully lonely.

Her feet carried her inside, body trembling as she came in contact with the cold flooring of their house. The heat hadn’t managed to crawl inside just yet, lingering outside her door like a ghost of old times, not daring to enter without her invitation. Another day would pass where she wouldn’t speak to anybody, fostering her tea while reading the books she knew like the back of her hand, she was torturing herself, needing to feel anything besides the gaping hole inside her chest.

The sound of impatient knocking ripped her out of her thoughts, head snapping towards the door. Slowly she moved closer, urged on by the knocking that grew louder with every passing second. (Y/n) ripped open the door, staring at the postman who pushed a letter into her outstretched hand and left before she could speak up. With her eyes wandering down to the letter, taking in the unfamiliar handwriting, she felt her heart picking up its beat.

It had been five weeks and three days since Tommy had last written, forcing her to count down the days till another message would find her. She had expected a short update from him, anything about his whereabouts, perhaps a sentence or two about the way he was missing her and their home. But now she wasn’t staring at something written by him, so, why would an unfamiliar person scribble down her address?

For a second she debated putting the letter down, not wanting to read it in case it was just a message from an old friend she couldn’t remember, unable to deal with the disappointment that would fill her system. And yet she was urged on by her curiosity, wondering what had been written down for her to read. She moved back outside, sitting down on the wooden bench Tommy had built for her years ago, allowing her to take in the field right outside their small house.

A shaky breath left her aching lungs as she ripped open the letter, smiling as she realised that it was indeed a letter written by Tommy.

“Dear Y/n,

I don’t know how to begin this letter because it’s unlike any of the others I’ve written before. I will not post it, but carry it in the pocket over my heart. John knows to deliver it to you if something should happen to me and if you are reading it now, I trust he has carried out his duty faithfully.” Her heart was racing, it took (y/n) a few seconds to notice the tears welling up in her eyes, forcing her to blink in hopes of clearing her vision. Has he been hurt? No longer able to write letters with wounds too big?

“I would like you to know my family will always be yours. They will look after you accordingly, not only because I’ve asked them, but because they have always considered you one of their own. From the day I met you, I made no secret of my intention to become worthy of you.” Only now did the realisation slowly settle in. He had been hurt, though not in the way she had thought, no, no longer was he breathing, no longer was he sharing this life with her. Another soul amongst the endless number of fallen. A pained sob wrecked through (y/n), hands trembling viciously.

“Do you remember when we were eight and I spent every last coin I had buying you a coconut? You laughed until your sides ached asking why I would do such a thing, but it was because I felt you deserved it. I continually strived to be the kind of man you could be proud to call your husband. Although I confess I’m not certain how you would view my actions in the name of duty and country, as they have often been beyond my own comprehension.” She could remember it all, every moment she had spent with Tommy by her side, every conversation, every touch, forever ingrained in her mind.

How could it be? How could one be ripped from this life just like this? Had he been shot, laying on the cold soil with his mind drifting off to her for one last time? One question after another flashed through her thoughts, desperately trying to distract her from the painful truth.

“In my darkest days, I bridged the long hours thinking of your unwavering devotion. Life would have been empty and utterly meaningless here had it not been for your letters. How fortunate I am to have known a love like yours. I would give anything to have known it longer, my darling. I realise this letter must seem a poor apology for breaking my promise to return to you. Know that my last thoughts were of you and the life we might have built together. Remember that I love you, Tommy”

—--

The September sun warmed her features as (y/n) was sitting in the middle of the field around their – her home. She was sitting on a woollen blanket, eyes shut to take in the heat that would soon leave Small Heath. Autumn was about to settle in, one with the colder days, the leaves that would fall and the rain that would clash down on her part of the land.

It had been weeks since (y/n) had received the letter telling her of Tommy’s passing, a letter she had added to the others, and yet she couldn’t reread it, couldn’t bear the pain shooting through her weak body. She wasn’t the same without Tommy near, wasn’t the same she had been before the message had reached her.

Not once had she tried to get in touch with the family she had once loved oh so much, they reminded her too much of him, the memory of Tommy was still too fresh in her mind, unable to forget about the features she’d see whenever she closed her eyes. And yet it somehow got easier with every passing day, even though (y/n) knew that she’d never be able to live as she had been able to all those weeks ago.

What was a woman full of love without a husband alive to share the emotions she felt deep inside?

Her fingers absentmindedly stroked along the lush grass, deeply inhaling the warm air whenever her brain reminded her to keep on breathing. The days passing by followed the same pattern, a routine she cherished, a routine she needed to keep on living without breaking every moment she wandered through her empty house.

“Love?” For a second (y/n) froze, shaking her head as a chuckle left her, she was going insane, hearing the voice of the lover that no longer wandered the same earth as she did. (Y/n) found comfort in the conversations she’d share with his ghost, speaking to the man she could have married, building a life together with their family close. “(Y/n)!”

Her eyes shot open, body forced to turn towards her home. The sun was blending her, and yet she could perfectly make out an all too familiar figure. With her breath hitched in her chest, (y/n) scrambled to her feet, stumbling over her dress as she tried to steady herself.

“You’re dead, this isn’t possible. Oh god, I’m going insane.” The heels of her hands found her eyes, adding pressure to her aching lids in hopes of clearing her vision. The sound of his raspy chuckles filled the afternoon, forcing her once again to take in his frame.

“As much as I can tell, I’m very much alive, love.” And with a sob rumbling through her, (y/n) stumbled into his arms. He smelled of mud, dirt and sweat, and yet (y/n) was certain that she had never taken in a scent this familiar, finding love in the way he held her close. She tightened his grip on him, needing to feel every part of him, trying to accept that her fiancé was alive and breathing. “God, I missed you, (y/n).”

“How is this possible, Tommy? I got the letter, I,” another sob interrupted her, feeling him growing tense. It took Tommy a moment to reply, hand finding her cheek to take in her features, eyes wandering over the tear traces on her skin.

“Which letter?” His voice was low, lower than she had remembered. No longer was he a young man filled with excitement and curiosity about the chances this life may offer him. No longer was he a young man clinging to the adventures he shared with his brothers and cousins. No, he was a man that had seen more dead bodies than the eye could count. He was a man graced by the anger those in positions of power had unleashed on the continent.

“Your letter, the one John should send to me, should you die. It reached me in July. I – I thought you had fallen, no longer alive.” One tear after another rolled down her cheek, dripping onto his warm hand. And with a pained expression tugging on his features, Tommy pulled her back in, chin placed on the top of her head.

“My uniform had been changed as I moved my rank, another soldier must have taken on my jacket, with the letter still in it. He must have thought that I died. I am so sorry, love, if only I had known.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, not daring to let go as they cherished one another’s closeness.

“Promise you’ll stay, don’t ever leave me again, Tommy. I won’t survive this again.”

It would take her weeks to fully realise that Tommy was back home, alive and breathing. She wouldn’t let him go, not now, not ever, because when one heart breaks, the other follows.

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