#dark thomas shelby imagines

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE THOMAS SHELBY HEADCANONS

There is a REASON he is known as the Devil of Small Heath around Birmingham. Pretty much all the men who come for a drink at the Garrison have the common sense not to mess with Thomas Shelby, just by hearing his mere name sends shivers up people's spines and for a reason too because of his dark deeds against people who stand against him. If there's one thing he values the most, it's family. He's willing to kill anyone who dares to prove to be a danger to his family

You were new to the city of Birmingham after completing your education overseas at a reputed university and you had a dream and passion for becoming a writer, to make a name for yourself in the literary world. You were supposed to meet your childhood friend Russell whom you've known ever since the two of you were in your school days as you opened the door to the Garrison and took a shaky breath as you entered the pub and sat down on a stool. You fidgeted with the sleeves of your dress nervously as you'd never had the habit of consuming alcohol much less even stepping foot inside a pub. The bartender Harry Fenton's eyes landed on you, as he had a polite smile on his face. "Where are you from miss, haven't seen you around here'' he said in a friendly tone as you told him about you visiting Birmingham for the first time and how you were supposed to meet your friend Russell. The bartender offered you a drink on the house but you politely declined as his lips curved into an amused smile at your refusal, finding it amusing that even though you were in a bar, you'd refused a drink of alcohol. Little did you know, there were 3 pairs of eyes watching you without your knowledge from a nearby booth

"Oh, she's new. Haven't seen her around'' said Ada to her brothers as she sipped her drink and looked at you with an interested expression on her face. "I know...she looks like a goody two shoes, bein' in a pub an all and not drinkin'' said Arthur as he smirked to himself as he gulped down his beer. "I know...real beauty ain't she?" said John as he grinned and took a swig of his drink as the three of them started discussing about you. Just then, they went quiet when Thomas entered wearing his glasses, his smart black suit along with Polly by his side as the two of them sat down at the booth with the rest of them. "Alfie's men are causing trouble again...need to get rid of that bloody dolt for good'' grumbled Tommy as he fished in his pocket for a cigar and lit it as he took a puff of smoke and sighed. His eyes fell on John who was still staring at you as his gaze landed on you as well and he surveyed you with his calculating piercing gaze. "Whos' she?" he asked the others with a stoic expression on his face as they told him about you and how you were waiting for someone

He couldn't help but feel slightly amused when he heard you wanted to become a writer at Birmingham of all places which was definitely NOT the place for you in his opinion. Yet his eyes never left you, as he kept observing you from a distance. "Oh, looks like you fancy her now don't you?" asked Ada in a teasing voice. "Shut up Ada'' he retorted as he continued to look at you. However a few seconds later he spotted some lousy drunk sleazebag trying to make you uncomfortable as he kept getting too close to you and you had an uncomfortable expression on your face. You tried to keep politely declining his offer to join him for the night but the man finally had enough as he grabbed your wrist. "I'll show you what happens to wenches like you who think they're too good for the world...little brat'' he drawled as his eyes traveled down your body hungrily. Within a matter of a few seconds, the man let out a sharp scream of pain as the whole pub fell silent and the chatter around you ceased at once

"She said no...'' said Thomas in a cold voice as he glared at the man who tried to have his way with you and twisted his hand till the man fell on his knees, writhing and groaning in pain. "Pathetic...next time you do something like that, I'll be sure to actually cut your bloody hand off and feed it to the dogs'' said Thomas as he looked down at the man in contempt as the man whimpered and got up and left. Thomas looked at you as you thanked him and he waved his hand dismissively telling you it was nothing, Deep down, secretly, there was a part of him that was glad he could just help you in time. Your friend Russell arrived into the pub a few seconds later as he looked at Thomas with a slightly pale expression on his face. "How about you be punctual on time and not make a lady wait...'' said Thomas as he glared at Russell before he went back to join the others at the booth and continued to stare at you and Russell talking with each other. He hated the feeling that was rising in his chest when he saw you talking to someone else, it was a bitter feeling bubbling inside him

Russell and you talked about your old school memories and how things were back in your childhood days as the two of you caught up with each other on what was going on in each other's lives. Thomas couldn't stand the way you were laughing at that moron's dull jokes, as he scoffed slightly to himself. He saw Russell hugging you which made him clench his fists till his knuckles turned white and he couldn't understand why the hell he was behaving like this for someone he'd just met. Yet, he didn't like the feeling of seeing you with that dimwit. Congratulations, you've managed to spike his curiosity regarding you so you now have the most dangerous mobster in all of Birmingham at your back. He's determined to find out more about you when he's determined to do something, he takes his task at hand very seriously

He'll have Arthur and John dig up information regarding you for him, everything from your history to your daily activities and your likes and dislikes. He's a complete stalker and blends really well in the shadows, his family don't even call him out for his behavior, they're just glad he's finally found someone to love and don't see anything wrong with his obsessive and possessive behavior towards you. Polly is looking forward to making you a part of the family as soon as possible. He'll start off slow, getting to actually know you personally and talking to you. He likes your company and likes hearing your voice. It soothes him and whenever you tell him something about yourself, he'll just smirk slightly to himself since he already knows everything about you, nothing he hasn't heard of before but he'll still play along for your sake

He'll start leaving little gifts at your doorstep like your favorite chocolates or a pretty dress for you to wear or something like that or some of your favorite flowers. You have a feeling like you're being stalked and when you rush to him for protection, his eyes glint with amusement, oh you sweet child, you truly had no idea. But all the same, he's glad and pleased he was the first one to come to your mind when you felt like you needed protection and he's more than willing and pleased to protect you and keep you safe. Rivals? What rivals? He's Thomas FOOKIN Shelby of the Peaky Blinders, when he wants something, he gets it. It's best if you don't know how many people's he's killed for daring to get too close to you. He'll either send John and Arthur to abduct the schmuck in the middle of the night and take the person to a deserted secluded location where Thomas will just use a single bullet to put the lousy scumbag who dared to lay his filthy eyes on you to put them to sleep permanently

He WANTS you to rely on him, it just feeds into that god complex ego of his, but also because he loves you, in his own twisted manner of course. He hates it when you show interest in someone else who's not him, it's like you're insulting him to his face and telling him that he's not good enough for you. Deep down he's just insecure and he doesn't want to lose you, he's already lost plenty of important people in his life and the last thing he wants is to lose you too

He's a control freak, he wants to know EVERY thing that happens in your life and his men are ALWAYS watching your every move. He finally decides to take things to the next step and approaches your parents to ask them for permission to marry you while you aren't in the house. Your father is slightly surprised to see Thomas standing outside his house as he invites him in and after the usual small talk and serving tea, Thomas clears his throat and decides to speak. "Sir...I would like to marry your daughter'' he said as the atmosphere became slightly tense. "Mr. Shelby, with all due respect, I am a father who wishes the best for his daughter. I know what kind of man you are Mr. Shelby, my daughter shall not marry a man as dangerous as you where her life would be at stake constantly or get thrown into the madness of the underworld. Please refrain from seeing my daughter again'' said your father in a firm tone as your mother agreed with his words. Thomas had to hand it to your dad, he was a gutsy courageous man who could actually stand up to him which would make things far more interesting

Seeing your parents and asking them for their permission was merely a formality, he already made preparations to being you to Arrow House which even your parents could not stop. "Mr. L/N, you are a smart man, a father who's willing to protect his darling daughter and I admire that to a certain extent. Your daughter WILL be mine one way or another, coming to see you was just a mere formality. Good day'' said Thomas as he put on his hat and enjoyed the way your father's expression turned pale at his words

That night after you returned back home from your publishing office and you set your books down, during dinner, you saw your parents looking slightly tense and nervous than usual. "Mom, dad...what's the matter'' you asked them gently as they stared at you with mournful looks on their faces. Your mother took a shaky breath before she spoke "Darling...your father and I love you very much, but you...you need to leave Birmingham immediately. It's for your own good'' You stared at them in shock, what were they saying? "Mom, dad... have I...have I become a burden to you both?'' you whispered as your eyes welled up with tears. "Shush child. Don't say such nonsense. You are the light of our lives but that man Thomas Shelby is a dangerous man...he's a relentless monster who wants to make you his and I'll be damned to let my darling daughter get married to a monster like him...you are to leave Birmingham immediately. We've already packed your trunk, you'll be taking the next train to Istanbul where you'll be staying with your aunt and uncle there for a while...it's just temporary my dear...hopefully'' said your father in a gentle tone as he sighed heavily and his eyes welled with tears too

"Mom...dad...I don't want to go, please...'' you said as you sniffed sadly. "It is not up for argument pumpkin, it's for your safety'' said your mother as she said as her voice cracked with emotion and she gulped down a glass of water. After dinner was over, you sat in the carriage with Russell who helped you with your trunk and you hugged your parents as tears streamed down your cheeks, you didn't know how long it would be before you'd get to see them again. You made it to the railway station and got out of the carriage as Russell helped you with your trunk. "It's for your own good you know, Thomas Shelby is a dangerous man...your parents are right. I'll miss you, don't worry, we'll keep in touch with letters'' said Russell as he placed a comforting arm around your shoulder. There weren't any people at the station since it was midnight but you thought it might work in your favor, unaware of what the universe had in store for you

"Step away from my future wife before I shoot you'' said a familiar voice nearby as you saw Thomas and the rest of the men from his Peaky Blinders gang head towards you. Your eyes widened in horror as you tried to back away from them when Russell stood in front of you to protect you from them. "Leave her alone Shelby'' he said. "Tch...how annoying, you know, I'm not a man with regrets but I regret not killing you that day at the Garrison. Not to worry, that can be arranged today'' said Thomas as he brought out a revolver and after a loud bang, your dear friend Russell was now on the ground dead, his eyes looking lifeless as the blood oozed out from his wound and you let out a scream of horror as tears streamed down your eyes. The train to Istanbul was approaching as you saw the train from a distance and your heart almost leapt from relief, this was your chance to escape and leave

John and Arthur held you by your arms and prevented you from escaping as you flailed and screeched on top of your lungs. "Shhh... don't worry, you'll be happy with me. Just be a good girl for me...I'll keep you safe'' he said and those were the last words you heard from him before a rag was placed on your face and you passed out. His passion for your love is beautiful and terrifying at the same time, laced with extreme obsessiveness and devotion to keep you safe. Love truly was the most powerful force of all...

[vervainandspritz]

JUST ANOTHER OF YOUR MISTAKES

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Request made by @justsumtuffstuff: Could you do a tommy shelby imagine where you secretly have his kid but don’t tell him until one day aunt polly sees you and is like “holy shit” but that’s not the surprise, the surprise is you have twins. Just a lot of angst and fluff pretty please? ((:

This fic will have two parts!

Warnings: angst, swearing, violence, grieving, a lot of pain, eventual fluff, smut

A/N: It's a.. heavy fic, so beware. Interact for more

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE

~~

The land of Birmingham seemed to never change, not one bit. Ever since the first people settled there, the sky hung over them as if by force, never clear enough to see prospects for the future. Robbing the poor kids of dreams, of the loud thumping in their hearts caused by excitement for the good that never came.

It would seem that God has lost his way to Birmingham, not to mention Small Heath. Dirt, smoke and silence that rang too loud when working men would finish their shifts in factories seeking peace in their homes. After all, the human brain can get used to everything.

What was the difference between going to sleep hungry every night, and the relentless churning in the depths of her stomach that Y/N felt? Pain that never let go, waking up along her side like a loyal husband, never ceasing to accompany her throughout the day. Never loosening the hold on her heart.

Oh, how cruel the fate can be, Y/N thought, looking at the white ceiling of her bedroom. One she slept in for many nights too long, carrying the weight of the curse on her shoulders.

Because she was cursed, that one she was sure. Seeing the man she loved more than anything else in the world, losing himself in the grief after another woman.

Because that was the woman whose name Y/N dared not speak or even think. That's who she was, another woman. Embodiment of pain and betrayal of so many promises, taking away the beautiful, blue gaze Y/N yearned for so badly.

God must have been so cruel, putting her through the uncertainty of ever seeing him again throughout the war, and then taking him away.

Taking him away from Y/N, and letting her watch the process. Letting her see the distance growing, the dilated pupils in his eyes after each doze of opium, fruitlessly trying to numb the pain he carried.

Y/N couldn't help but wake up everyday, wondering how different his grief would be if it was her who died. Would he cry? Would he push the other woman away, like he did her? Sometimes the pain felt like too much to handle, but Y/N would never try to pull the trigger. Subconsciously feeling the weight of shame in her chest if she'd ever somehow found out she was right. That he wouldn't care.

So she lived, losing pieces of her heart day by day, warming his bed whenever he saw it convenient.

Until that one day came, that was. Hearing the... Scary, oh so scary news from her doctor she visited in secret. Putting both of her hands on her still flat stomach, she didn't feel anything physically. Yet it was enough to find the strength, buried so deep in her heart.

The love she felt for her unborn children outweighed the love for him.

The tension in Arrow house felt heavier than usual, as Y/N dragged her heavy suitcase down the stairs before slowly making her way to his office. The pain, longing in her heart slowing her down, extending the seconds into forever.

Y/N took a deep breath as her hand pressed down on the metal handle, the loud click echoing throughout the mostly empty room. Wordlessly she slipped inside, walking up to his desk quietly, letting out a shaky breath when she stopped mere inches away from the wooden furniture. His eyes didn't move from the documents he was reading, an empty gaze fixed on black letters despite knowing she was there. Y/N waited for a second, giving him a chance to look at her. Hoping he would.

But he didn't.

”I'm leaving” she said, loud enough to be heard. Silence followed her words, loud like never before as her heart squeezed in anticipation, silently begging him to stop her. To say something. Several moments passed before he finally did, making her heart stop for a mere second.

”Safe travels, Y/N Y/L/N” He responded in a cold, husky voice and for a moment, Y/N wondered who he was, wearing his face but sounding so different.

But the dust settled, just like the weight of his words as soon as she closed the door behind her back for what she thought would be the last time.

~~

Polly's eyes cut through his skin like a blade, her gaze never changing after that one feral day. The look of contempt and disgrace not even a bit different than one she gave him finding out what happened, back then.

”I was hoping you wouldn't be so stupid” She hissed, leaning forward, reaching for a cigarette with a shaky hand. Her eyes were teary, as she inhaled the smoke. ”When you were younger I saw your mother in your eyes. Now, they're full of greed and foolishness. Just like your father's” She spat out with contempt, raising from the chair. Quickly walking up to his own, she kneeled down for a moment, to meet his gaze.

One so empty, that gave her goosebumps.

”I will never forgive you, and... Neither will you.” She whispered. ”But you will have to live with the choice you made.”

Her words echoed loudly in his head several minutes after Polly left... And they never stopped ringing now, thirty eight months later. Thomas counted, every morning to be sure. After sobering up it was difficult to tell days apart. He rarely slept, fearful of the dreams he had at first.

He saw her, she was so close and yet no matter how fast Tommy ran, he couldn't reach her. Out of his reach no matter how hard he screamed or cried. Looking at him with the burning tears he caused.

It took him three months to sober up, give up on opium and... Feel. Thomas wasn't ready for the hellish pain that dawned on him once the drug wore off. The terrifying longing that dawned on him when he felt the remnants of her perfume on his pillow. The lack of relief he hoped for so badly, throwing away every single Grace's belonging he held onto previously, burning the photos and destroying the items, but it never came.

As time stretched, it became more intense. Thomas carried the pain and guilt wherever he went, finding the smallest bit of relief only in his office, searching for Y/N in every piece of England day by day.

Replaying the ways in which he treated her, internally setting himself on fire and forcing himself to feel every bit of it. Because that's what he deserved, to feel and carry the cross he created with his own hands.

Oh how beautiful the pain was, as he'd lean back in his armchair, closing his eyes and remembering her gaze. Her scent and her laugh, echoing so lively in his mind.

...but none of it worked, no matter how many people searched. How much money he spent on the search. Almost like she disappeared into thin air.

Day by day he was dying a little, bleeding through the wounds he so desperately prevented from healing every single time. Keeping the memory of her alive in his mind, not letting the hope die. Because it was all he had. Glimmer of hope. The leader of Peaky blinders became even worse than before. The pain shaped his mind in unknown ways, as the limitless cruelty became visible to anyone who dared to cross his path. Peaky Blinders were unmatched.

Nobody besides Thomas held onto the hope anymore. Knowing Y/N for so long, John and Artur knew she wouldn't come back. Not if her life depended on it. Polly only prayed for her safety.

...and Y/N? She stopped praying once her children were born. After finding out she'd have twins, she prayed every night for them to be born healthy. It was all that mattered.

Not the fact that she had to be using a fake name after moving to Coventry, mere miles away from Birmingham. But she couldn't afford to move further.

It's been.. so fucking hard. Everything. Y/N spent every night crying, begging any God that would listen to take away the pain in her heart. The pain that her babies only managed to lessen. Working as a waitress on nightshifts after accepting the kindness of her older neighbour. Mrs Wilson offered to take care of her boys while she works to help her make ends meet. Y/N had no idea what she would do without a woman she grew to call her only family.

”It's no problem, honey. They're little angels” She said quietly with a kind smile, taking one of the boys into her arms mere days after they were born.

The pain Y/N felt by having to leave her kids every night was stronger than the physical one. Having to work a demanding job after giving birth to keep the roof over their heads.

She cried, cried so much that eventually tears ran out and all she could do was.. keep trying. The two little people by her side were giving her strength. Light that she couldn't see before them, and only existed because they were here. Keeping her own heart beating.

***

”Are you sure? I can take care of them while you go, honey. You know how much I love them, don't you?” The older lady offered eagerly, caressing Nick's cheek with a smile, and a hint of concern while she glanced at Y/N.

”Thank you, but I will take them. The least I can do is spend time with them throughout the day.” Y/N responded, smiling sadly to her neighbour who just nodded along, understanding the allusion.

Letting out a sigh, she put her hands together.

”Be careful, dear.”

Y/N squeezed her hand lightly before pulling away as she held her son's hand, while carrying the other one on her hip.

”Always”

Travelling via train took no longer than forty minutes, and with each passing mile, Y/N's anxiety grew. She hasn't been in Birmingham for a long time now, not looking back.

Yet, because of her official address being still in the Arrow house, she needed to visit the office to complete documentation for boys. She put it off as long as she could, but it was inevitable now.

Despite the negative emotions, Y/N couldn't felt.. better, having her babies with her. The familiar facial expressions or blue orbs were enough to sometimes bring her to tears, but she couldn't love them more. They were a perfect little copy of the man whose name was engraved on her heart. The older they were, the more similar looking they were and now at dashing two and a half years, both boys were troublemakers.

Slowly making their way through Birmingham, Y/N held one little hand, chatting away with Nick, who was more energised than his brother who slept soundly in his mum's arms.

”...and dat?” He asked, pointing towards the building and glancing curiously at his mama. Y/N smiled at his curiosity, seeing how similar personality wise he was to her.

”that's a house” She replied calmly. The little boy cheered loudly, throwing his arms in the air.

"Yaay! Hooose!” He squealed making her chuckle, not caring about the scolding glances from other passengers.

A couple minutes later the other little one woke up, and started fussing because obviously he also wanted to walk now, while Nick wanted to be carried now. Sighing, Y/N put one of the kids down, and as she managed to pick up little Nick, she gasped loudly seeing her son's legs already in motion as he ran towards the crowd.

”Tommy! Thomas, stop!” She yelled after him, chasing him with Nick on her hip who watched the whole thing with his blue eyes wide open. ”Tommy!” She yelled once again, and he finally turned around, stumbling upon someone.

Y/N closed the distance as fast as she could, grabbing little Tommy and pulling him back to his feet, as she checked for any bruises – found none.

”I'm so sorry, i–” She started out, wanting to apologise to the random passenger, but words died on her tongue as soon as her eyes locked with the familiar brown ones.

”Y/N?” Polly stumbled out in shock.

Fuck

Part two upcoming

[brummiereader]

Binding Love

(Masterlist)

Summary: Soon to be divorced and co-parenting with the notorious leader of the Peaky Blinders was never going to be a breeze. But when a number of unanswered calls and a string of dead bodies surface in your attempts to move on, you gain the attention of a detective and the pressing matter of his colleagues whereabouts, with whom you had spent one evening on a date with. Promising you witness protection in return for the evidence he was sure you had on his sole suspect, your husband. Your future is left in the balance when Tommy's paranoia and inability to let you go makes itself known as your codependency continues to show no signs of surrendering. Will you let yourself be free of the man whose love for you has consumed him? Do you even want to be?

Warnings: Dark!Tommy, language, violence, psychological mind games, controlling behaviour, toxic relationship, manipulative behaviour, smut, psychological abuse, murder.

Authors Note: This is a Dark!Tommy series that some readers may find triggering. Please review the warnings before continuing.

Teaser Trailer

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven (completed series)

Gif credit: @mushroomseb. Go check out their amazing work!

[hllywdwhre]

For any Cillian fans on Insta: this blog has 44K and is using Cillian’s face to spread transphobic crap

[gretelshelby]

Thomas Shelby Moodboard

[cinnam-0-ngirl]

GUYS THOMAS SHELBY X READER X ALFIE SOLOMONS RECS PLEASE

[corrupte3d-mindz]

Lies She Told

Possessive! Thomas Shelby x Cheating Wife! Reader

Summary: Thomas finds out his wife has been unfaithful.

Wordcount: 4.1k

Warnings: Barely Proof-Read

possessive! Thomas, cheating, angst, yelling.

Inspiration: Darlin’ - Chase Matthew

The Arrow House was alive with the hum of voices, the clinking of glasses, and the subtle, yet unmistakable undertone of power. Thomas Shelby stood in the midst of it all, his sharp blue eyes surveying the room with a practiced indifference.

The event was a display of wealth, a gathering of influential people whose lives intersected with his in the labyrinthine world of business. The house, his fortress, was filled with guests, all eager to curry favor, to be seen, to be acknowledged by the man who held the reins of so many fates. Yet, amidst the sea of faces, his mind was elsewhere. A businessman, flushed with alcohol and self-importance, was rambling on about the portrait that hung on the wall—a painting of Thomas on horseback. The man’s admiration was laced with sycophancy, but Thomas barely registered the words. He offered a perfunctory smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes, before dismissing the man with a curt nod. The urge to find his wife was gnawing at him, a strange sense of unease settling in his chest. She was always near him at these events, her presence a constant, a subtle reminder of his power and control. But tonight, she was conspicuously absent.

He had noticed things lately, small things that gnawed at him. The scent of another man’s cologne lingering on his wife’s clothes, the way she seemed distant, her mind always somewhere else. He’d dismissed it at first, chalking it up to the pressures of his business, the strain it placed on their marriage. But the doubts had grown, festering like an untreated wound. 

Thomas’s steps were measured, deliberate, as he moved through the throngs of people. He navigated the crowd with a practiced ease, his mere presence parting the guests like the tide. He wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries, his mind too focused on the task at hand. The more he looked, the more his concern grew. He knew every corner of this house, every nook and cranny, and yet she was nowhere to be found. It was unlike her, and that worried him. The farther he went from the main gathering, the quieter the house became. The laughter and chatter faded into a dull murmur as he moved deeper into the shadows of the grand estate. His footsteps echoed in the empty corridors, the polished floors reflecting the dim light of the wall sconces. It was in these quiet moments that Thomas felt most at ease, away from the watchful eyes, away from the noise. But tonight, even the silence did little to calm the unease that was building within him.

Then he heard it—soft, almost imperceptible, but enough to make him stop in his tracks. A voice, faint and foreign, carried through the air. “Darlin’... please don’t tempt me...” The accent was Southern, American, and entirely out of place in his home. It was the tone that caught his attention more than the words, the intimate, almost pleading quality that made his blood run cold.

Thomas’s head snapped in the direction of the voice, his eyes narrowing as he honed in on the source. His heart began to pound, a slow, steady rhythm that echoed in his ears as he moved forward, his pace quickening. The voice was a thread, pulling him toward something he wasn’t sure he wanted to see, but something he needed to confirm. His thoughts were a whirlwind of suspicion and disbelief, each step bringing him closer to a truth he feared. His footsteps were almost silent on the floor beneath him as he made his way towards the back of the house. There was something pulling him in that direction, an instinct honed by years of surviving on the streets, by being one step ahead of danger. He reached the corridor that led to the servants' quarters, a place he rarely ventured. But tonight, something drew him there. As he approached, he noticed the door to the maid’s room slightly ajar, a sliver of light spilling out into the darkened hallway.

Thomas stopped, his heart thudding in his chest, the sound loud in his ears. He could hear voices, low and muffled, coming from inside. One voice was his wife’s, unmistakable in its softness, in the way it had once brought him comfort. But now it sent a chill down his spine. The other voice was unfamiliar, a man’s voice, rough with a country accent. “Darlin’... you’re too good for him... too sweet,” the words echoed in his mind, each one a dagger twisting in his gut. Anger surged through him, a hot, violent rage that he hadn’t felt in years. His hand clenched into a fist at his side, the muscles in his jaw tightening. He felt a red mist descending, clouding his vision, filling his mind with thoughts of violence, of retribution. Without thinking, he reached for the door handle, yanking it back with a force that made the wood groan in protest. The door flew open, slamming against the wall, and the room was suddenly bathed in harsh, overhead light as he flicked the switch.

The scene before him was like something out of a nightmare. His wife, the woman he had trusted above all others, and there she was—his wife, standing far too close to a man Thomas had never seen before. The man was tall, broad-shouldered, with a rough, rugged look that spoke of a life far removed from the polished circles of Birmingham society. They froze, their eyes locking with his, the shock evident on their faces. His hand rested on the small of her back, his body angled toward hers in a way that made Thomas’s stomach turn; it was too familiar, too intimate. Thomas’s heart pounded in his chest, each beat a drum of impending violence. His eyes flicked to his wife, then to the man, and back again. The silence in the room was deafening, the air thick with tension. Thomas took a slow, deliberate breath, trying to rein in the fury that threatened to explode. His hand came up to the bridge of his nose, pinching it slightly as he closed his eyes, a hiss of frustration escaping his lips. He needed to control himself, to think clearly. But the betrayal was like a knife in his back, twisting deeper with every passing second. His mind raced, a thousand thoughts colliding at once. He wanted to hurt them both, to make them pay for what they had done. But more than that, he wanted answers. He needed to understand how this had happened, how he had been blindsided in his own home.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low, dangerous, dripping with barely contained rage. “What the fuck is goin’ on ‘ere?” His words were slow, deliberate, each one a bullet aimed at the two people standing before him. He wanted to see them squirm, to see the fear in their eyes as they realized the gravity of what they had done. His wife flinched at the sound of his voice, her eyes wide with fear and guilt. The man beside her paled, his bravado crumbling in the face of Thomas’s cold fury.

“Tommy, I... I can explain,” his wife stammered, her voice shaking. But Thomas wasn’t interested in her explanations, not yet. He stepped into the room, his presence dominating the space, making it feel smaller, more claustrophobic.

“Don’t.” His voice was low, dangerous, the kind of tone that made even the bravest men think twice. He stepped into the room, his gaze fixed on the man, who was now standing tall, as if trying to assert his dominance. But Thomas Shelby was not a man to be challenged, especially not in his own home.

His eyes bore into the man who still had the audacity to stand so close to his wife. “Who even the fuck are yeh?” Thomas growled, his voice low and deadly, the kind of voice that made men confess their sins.

“You’ve got some nerve, eh?” Thomas’s voice was laced with venom, his accent thickening as his anger grew. He took another step closer, his eyes never leaving the man’s face. “Comin’ into my house, touchin’ my wife... Yeh must be either brave or stupid. Or both.”

His gaze was locked on the man, a pitiful excuse for a human being who now stood trembling before him. The man was trying to speak, but his words were garbled, caught in his throat as if the very act of forming a sentence in Thomas’s presence was too much for him to bear. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his hands shook at his sides, like a cornered animal ready to bolt at the first sign of mercy—or danger. Thomas’s jaw tightened, the muscle twitching beneath his skin as he held back the surge of violence that clawed at his insides.

The room was painfully silent, save for the man’s ragged breathing and the soft rustle of fabric as Thomas’s wife shifted uncomfortably behind him. But even without looking at her, Thomas could feel her presence—could sense the guilt radiating off her in waves, mingling with the stench of fear and betrayal that hung heavy in the air. He took a slow, deliberate step forward, the wooden floorboards creaking beneath his polished shoes. The man flinched, his eyes wide with terror, darting from Thomas to his wife and back again. Thomas could see the thoughts racing through the man’s mind, the desperate scramble to find a way out, a way to explain himself, to justify the unforgivable. But there was no justification—not for this.

“Answer me,” Thomas growled, his voice low and dangerous, the kind of tone that made men think twice before crossing him. It was a command, not a request, and the man knew it. But still, he hesitated, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, words failing him in the face of Thomas’s cold, unyielding stare.

Thomas’s eyes flicked back to his wife, catching the brief, pleading glance she sent the man’s way, a silent cry for help that went unanswered. The sight of it—of her still trying to protect this man, this nobody—made something inside him snap. His anger, already a simmering storm, flared hot and uncontrollable, flooding his veins with a heat that burned away any remnants of restraint. The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating, until the man finally found his voice, though it wavered with fear. “I-I didn’t mean... I never wanted to... I’m sorry, Mr. Shelby... Please, I didn’t know—”

“Didn’t know what?” Thomas interrupted, his voice a sharp, cutting blade. He took another step forward, closing the distance between them until he was towering over the man, his presence overwhelming. “Didn’t know she was married? Didn’t know who I was?” He sneered, his lip curling with disgust. “Or didn’t care?”

The man’s breath hitched, and he glanced desperately at Thomas’s wife, as if hoping she might intervene, might save him from the wrath that was surely coming. But Thomas wasn’t having it. He reached out, his hand like a vice as he grabbed the man by the collar, yanking him forward until they were nose to nose. The man’s feet barely touched the ground, and his breath came in short, panicked gasps as he struggled in Thomas’s grip.

“Yeh think I don’t know men like yeh?” Thomas hissed, his voice low but filled with venom. “Yeh think I haven’t dealt with worse scum than you in the streets of Birmingham? Yer nothing. Less than nothing. And yeh had the audacity to touch what’s mine?”

He shoved the man back, releasing him with a force that sent him stumbling into the wall behind him. The man crumpled, his legs giving out beneath him as he slid to the floor, his back against the faded wallpaper. Thomas loomed over him, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles had turned white, the urge to beat the life out of this pitiful creature nearly overpowering. But he held back—barely—his mind still whirring, still calculating. Violence wasn’t the answer—not yet. He needed to know more. Needed to understand the full extent of this betrayal before he could decide how to deal with it. He turned his attention to his wife, who was now openly weeping, her face buried in her hands. The sound of her sobs grated on his nerves, a reminder of the pain she had caused, the trust she had shattered. But there was something else too, something in the way she cried that made him pause. It wasn’t just guilt or fear that drove her tears—there was something deeper, a sadness that he hadn’t expected, hadn’t seen before.

“Tommy, please...” she whispered, her voice muffled by her hands. “I didn’t mean for it to happen... I swear, it was a mistake... I’ve been so lonely...”

At the word lonely, Thomas felt a fresh wave of anger crash over him. He could hardly believe the audacity of it, the sheer gall of her to use such an excuse. Lonely? Lonely? As if that justified anything. As if that gave her the right to betray him, to throw away everything they had built together over the past four years. His teeth ground together, the sound nearly audible in the tense silence of the room.

“Lonely,” he repeated, his voice dripping with contempt. “Yeh think that’s a fuckin’ excuse? Yeh think that makes it alright?” His words were sharp, each one hitting her like a physical blow, and she flinched as if she had been struck. But he didn’t stop—couldn’t stop. The floodgates had opened, and all the bitterness, the hurt, the betrayal he had been holding back came pouring out, each word laced with venom.

“Yeh think I don’t know what lonely is? Yeh think I don’t feel it too? Every time I’m away, every time I have to leave this house to keep us safe, to keep yeh safe, yeh think I don’t feel it? But I didn’t stray, did I? I didn’t go lookin’ for comfort in someone else’s arms, did I? And yet here yeh are, beggin’ for forgiveness, tryin’ to make me understand.”

His fists were still clenched at his sides, the knuckles white and trembling with the effort it took not to lash out, not to give in to the primal urge to break something—anything. But he couldn’t let that happen. He needed to stay in control, needed to keep his head clear, even as his heart ached and his blood boiled with the realization of what she had done. He turned back to the man, who was still cowering on the floor, eyes wide with terror as he looked up at Thomas, knowing that his fate lay in the hands of the man who stood above him. Thomas took a deep breath, forcing himself to think, to plan, to strategize. This man wasn’t worth his anger, wasn’t worth the blood that would be spilled if he gave in to his rage. But he couldn’t let him off easy—not after this.

“Yeh better run while yeh still can,” Thomas said, his voice cold and devoid of emotion. “Maybe yeh’ll be far enough away before my men get to yeh. But don’t count on it.”

The man hesitated for only a moment, and then, with a choked sob of relief, he scrambled to his feet and bolted for the door. Thomas didn’t move as the man brushed past him, didn’t flinch as the double doors slammed shut behind him, leaving the room in an oppressive, suffocating silence. Finally, when the sound of the man’s footsteps had faded into the distance, Thomas turned back to his wife. She was still crying, her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs, and for a moment—a brief, fleeting moment—he felt a pang of something like pity. But it was gone as quickly as it had come, replaced by the cold, hard reality of what she had done.

He took a step closer to her, his shoes thudding softly against the wooden floor. His hand reached out, almost hesitantly, before wrapping around her wrists in a firm, possessive grip. There was no anger in the touch, not yet. It was more a need to connect, to hold onto something that felt real in a moment when everything else seemed to be slipping away. His other hand found its way to her waist, his fingers digging into the fabric of her dress, pulling her closer. The familiar scent of her perfume filled his nostrils, a scent that once brought him comfort but now only reminded him of what might be lost.

“Why would yeh throw what we have away… why?” His voice was low, gritty, carrying the weight of the unspoken accusations that lingered between them. It wasn’t just a question; it was a plea, a desperate attempt to understand how the woman he loved could betray him. His breath was warm against her ear, and he could feel the slight tremor in her body as he spoke. But whether that tremor was from fear, guilt, or something else entirely, he couldn’t tell.

The silence that followed his question was deafening. He could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his chest, a dull thud that seemed to echo in the small room. His grip on her wrists tightened ever so slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind her that he was there, that he wasn’t letting go until he got the answers he needed. His mind raced, thoughts tumbling over one another as he tried to piece together the puzzle of their relationship. Where had it all gone wrong? Was it something he did? Or was it something she had been planning all along? Thomas was a man who prided himself on control, on being able to manage every aspect of his life with a precision that few could match. But here, now, with his wife in his grasp and the specter of infidelity hanging over them, he felt that control slipping. And it terrified him. He had been faithful to her, had given her everything she could ever want, and yet here they were, standing on the precipice of something that could destroy them both.

His eyes searched hers, looking for the truth, for any sign that she might deny the accusations, that she might reassure him, tell him he was wrong. But instead, he saw something else—something that made his stomach churn. Was it guilt? Or was it defiance? He couldn’t tell, and that only made his grip tighten further, his knuckles whitening as he held onto her as if she were the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

“Eh?” he pressed, his voice a low growl now, the frustration evident in every syllable. 

Thomas's left her waist and darted roughly to her hand that bared her wedding ring he had custom made just for her. He gripped her hand with a force that teetered on the edge of violence, his fingers digging into her soft skin. The silver wedding ring gleamed ominously in the dim light, a symbol of their union now turned into a weapon. He shoved her hand roughly in front of her face, forcing her to confront the reality of what that ring meant. “Yeh see this fuckin’ rock on yer’ finger…” he hissed, his voice low and gravelly, each word laced with venom. “That means yer fuckin’ mine!”

His wife’s eyes, wide with a mix of fear and defiance, flickered between his own and the ring, her lips trembling as she tried to form a response. But before she could even utter a word, Thomas yanked her closer, their faces now inches apart. His breath was hot against her cheek, the scent of whiskey still clinging to him from the earlier hours. His jaw clenched as he spoke again, slower this time, his voice dropping even lower, the words grinding out like stones against each other. “D’ya understand? Mine.” There was no room for doubt in his tone, no space for negotiation. This was not a man who tolerated disobedience or betrayal. This was a man who had built an empire from nothing, a man who had clawed his way out of the mud and blood of Small Heath to stand at the top. And now, the very idea that the woman he had chosen to stand beside him, the woman he had protected and loved in his own cold, twisted way, could be betraying him? It was an affront he could barely comprehend, let alone tolerate.

He cupped her face, his fingers curling against her skin with a force that bordered on roughness, a desperate need to feel her, to remind himself that she was still his, despite the cracks that had formed in the foundation of their marriage. His thumb brushed over her cheek, a gesture that was almost tender if not for the underlying tension that coiled in his muscles, a barely restrained violence that simmered just below the surface. He pulled her towards him, their lips colliding in a kiss that was more a battle than an embrace. It wasn’t the gentle, loving kiss of a husband to his wife; it was a claiming, a demand, a statement of ownership wrapped in the guise of affection. The kiss was harsh, driven by a mix of need and anger, of love and betrayal. His lips pressed against hers with a bruising intensity, as if he could kiss the doubt away, as if he could force her to be faithful through sheer willpower. His other hand tangled in her hair, the softness of the strands a stark contrast to the roughness of his grip. He held her there, anchored in place, as if letting go would mean losing her entirely. He could feel the resistance in her, the hesitation, and it only spurred him on, deepening the kiss, trying to pull something from her, a confession, a reassurance, anything that would give him peace.

Time seemed to stretch, the kiss consuming them both, blocking out the world beyond the four walls of the room. It was just them now, two people locked in a struggle as old as time itself—love and trust, suspicion and betrayal. Thomas knew what he was fighting for, but he wasn’t sure if she did. He wasn’t sure if she felt the same desperation, the same need to make this work, to keep what they had from crumbling into dust. When he finally pulled back, his chest heaving from the intensity of the kiss, he didn’t move far. His forehead rested against hers, his breath hot and heavy against her lips as he searched her eyes for something—anything—that would tell him he wasn’t making a mistake. His eyes bore into hers, seeking the truth, pleading with her to give him some sign that she was still the woman he married, the woman he had been faithful to for four long years. There was a flicker there, a glimmer of something that might have been hope, or perhaps it was just a reflection of his own desperate need to believe. But whatever it was, it wasn’t enough. Not yet.

“We made that promise,” he said, his voice a low growl, thick with the accent of Birmingham, every word carrying the weight of their past, their vows, their life together. “Four years, we’ve been through hell and back, and I’ve stood by you every step of the way. But now...” He trailed off, his grip on her face tightening slightly, a flash of anger, of pain, flickering across his features. “Now I don’t know what to believe.”

Author's Notes:

Ahhhhhhh! where have I been? School started for me and I've also been in a writers block lolz. But yeah, hopefully this story doesn't suck.. anyways toodles!!

[traumadumpwriter]

Heavy trigger warning for abuse, SA, assault, violence, self harm, mentions of r*pe

If you enjoy please don't forget to like, repost, comment. Give me feedback! | love to hear it!

I do update more frequently and there r already more chapters on my Wattpad @/slowlychanging!

Check out the other chapters by going to the Freedom tag on my page!

Freedom: A John Shelby Mini Fic

Chapter Nine: 4311 words

Hours passed until 'Go time' finally arrived and the adrenaline was just starting to kick in for Alice. She and Tommy were sat in silence as he drove her towards the agreed location - a seedy hotel just outside of town, ran by the Turks with a grand suite that Ergin often stayed in.

The window to his suite was visible from the street below; red velvet curtains pulled shut behind the thin glass panes. Alice was relieved that to see it was only on the second floor - knowing it to be her most likely route of escape incase things went wrong.

There were blinders surrounding the property, hidden in bushes and under cars, and the plan was clear in Alice's head. She could do this.

"We'll be an hour at most." Tommy spoke quietly, his eyes staring at a figure promptly coming towards the car.

After receiving strict instructions from him for the last hour, Alice found his voice to be extremely annoying and also looked to the figure, having nothing pleasant to say to Tommy.

A tanned man in a suit eventually came to the door on Alice's side, opening it with a smile and holding out his arm for her to take. She looked back at the Shelby one more time and he sent her a nod before sending her out into the cool night air, her hand placed gingerly on the arm of the small man.

Upon reaching the lobby, he stepped away from Alice with a polite nod and she suddenly found herself surrounded by an entourage of colourful characters; even the other women emitting an intimidating energy. They were all sat around a large table, decorated with intricate cloth, drinking from ornate glasses and laughing merrily. Alice looked around and tried to work out which one was Ergin, but had no luck - all of the men wearing similar, cream suits with no real distinction from each other.

A cough from the polite assistant quickly drew their eyes upwards and although they initially looked so unimpressed, the men's faces instantly softened upon seeing Alice - stood there like an innocent doe.

"The Shelby woman aye?" One of the men stood up with a grin and held out his hand for Alice to take, to which she quickly did. His accent was thick and he exuded suaveness. "Even more beautiful than I was told." He placed a kiss on her hand before pulling away and gesturing for her to follow him. "The boss's room is just up here, I show you."

"Thank you." She replied, being careful to smile and be polite but not too much - Tommy said it was important that she came across as unintelligent and innocent but still sexual and willing; a difficult mix to nail.

As she followed his path, she could feel all eyes on her; devouring the white, corseted dress and how it draped her frame perfectly. Polly had gotten her measurements and rushed into town to get it not long after the initial family gathering, worrying about Alice not looking the part. The older woman hated the plan and it had been even harder getting her approval than Tommy had originally anticipated, but she eventually caved in and agreed to help - citing the trickery and murder of Jones Buckley to be her main motivation. She owed it to Clara after all.

John on the other hand had disappeared from the house for hours, unable to handle the rage or betrayal his family had made him feel. Hidden, he watched Alice from a distance after she first tried on the dress; practicing her gun draw with Polly in the back street whilst the other Peaky boys rushed around preparing for potential bloodshed that night. The dress was absolutely beautiful on her and he struggled to watch, stepping away after a moment whilst painful thoughts started to ravage his brain again. There was no way he would ever forgive Tommy for asking this of her, and if she got truly hurt there was no way he'd ever forgive his family for allowing it.

Now he sat in tense silence, waiting for his signal to burst into the cellar and begin the raid, desperately praying that Alice would be okay.

Meanwhile, the woman was surprised by how pleasant the Turks had been to her, although she now suspected that things would change as the varnished door to the huge suite opened.

"Ah, Ms Buckley. You look incredible." Alice cringed at the name but nodded graciously to the man in front of her; his facial hair meticulously groomed and his suit black. "Do you mind if I call you that? Or are you a Shelby now?"

His tone was mocking and as Alice studied him, she realised he was one who'd been at the campsite that day - her face almost going red from anger and embarrassment.

"I'm my own woman now, you can just call me Alice." She answered with a sultry tone, eyeing his body in a way to suggest she didn't care if he eyed hers - even though she really just wanted to punch the man.

"And your name is?"

He chuckled slightly, staring her down as he closed the door behind her with a loud bang.

"My name is Maximus, Alice." He winked and patted her waist before leaning in to her ear. She expected an uncomfortable kiss to her neck, not the menacing tone that then quietly fell from his lips. "And I don't trust you one little bit.. I don't know how you escaped your husband, but I can have you sent back to him with the click my fingers, long before any of those Peaky brothers could find you. Don't forget that - whore." He almost spat that last word before suddenly standing straight again with a smile. "Now let's go see the boss, shall we?"

Alice didn't have time to even fully process his shocking words as another door was opened and they stepped deeper into the suite. She immediately spotted the red curtained window before she even looked at Ergin or his associate; both larger men, clad in expensive suits and golden jewellery. They had glasses of wine on the table in front of them, along with a pile of cards and an ashtray full of fat cigar butts. There was an empty chair opposite them and Maximus gestured for Alice to sit on it before leaving the room, leaving the three in silence for a moment.

Now she could ponder on the sinister man's words. She tried not to believe him, to keep her faith in the brothers, but a seed of doubt had now been planted and she was starting to accept that she would in fact have to sleep with these men if she wanted to stay alive - or atleast not get sent back to Jones. She'd rather die than have that happen.

Her panicked thoughts almost started to spiral until Ergin suddenly announced something to his friend in Turkish, instantly making her alert again. He cheered as he placed down a card - obviously winning whatever game they were playing - and then finally acknowledged the nervous woman in front of him.

"Sorry, I had to think about that move." He chuckled before meeting her eyes, his demeanour instantly softening. "Wow, look at this kadin, Aylin! Even more beautiful up close."

His friend, who Alice assumed to be named Aylin, laughed and nodded as he too studied the woman - staring as if she were an object and not a person.

"What you doing with a dog like John Shelby huh? You really just a whore like his brother says? I don't believe it." Ergin scoffed, once again sparking an anxious flame in Alice's belly that she had to quickly stamp out. "And what is this Maximus says about you being some kind of gypsy whore also? You are far too beautiful. I don't believe."

Alice was shocked by the seeming interest that Ergin had in her, taking a moment to collect herself before cooly replying "I thought I was here to dance with you, not be interrogated."

That seemed to surprise the men as they laughed again and exchanged few words in Turkish before Ergin leant forward and locked eyes with Alice again.

"I think you are an interesting woman.. The scars are something I like." Alice immediately went to pull down her sleeves as she realised they'd ridden up but he stopped her, his big hands enveloping hers with ease. "No no, don't cover, I said I like."

She didn't know how to respond to that. No one had ever liked her scars. A discussion about them wasn't what she had mentally prepared herself for. Instead, she was now thinking about how she would open the red curtain to send the signal without it seeming suspicious.

"It shows-" Ergin lit a cigar and placed it to his lips, drawing her attention again "-that you are not scared of pain. At least not pain inflicted by yourself. Am I right in this?"

Alice nodded slowly, unsure of where things could go from here. Her heart was racing and her handbag felt like a tonne weight placed gently on her thigh as she thought about the gun hidden inside.

"I want you to take off the dress and cut yourself right now then." His voice had a sudden firmness to it that paralleled to the friendly tone he'd shown a second prior.

With the four eager eyes on her, Alice knew she had no choice but to undress and started to slowly pull down her dress - the undergarments also being purchased in town by Polly that day. It was all white, a corset and frilly bra with matching garters and panties. Alice felt exposed but less exposed than she should've - so used to this objectifying treatment that it almost felt normal.

She took the small knife from Ergin's large, leathery hand and moved it to her thigh, taking a deep breath before making a quick red line. Even in such forced circumstances the pain felt a relief to her, visibly so as the two men let out another laugh and Ergin quickly snatched the knife back from her.

"Wow. You really like that huh? I didn't actually expect you to do it. Maybe you are a whore. Or maybe you are just crazy." He chuckled, earning an awkward forced chuckle back from Alice before his tone went serious again and he stood up. "Now dance with the knife. I want you to cut yourself with it as you dance. I expect all clothes to be gone by time the song is finished."

Alice's stomach dropped once she heard the record playing and felt the knife being placed in her hand again. Ergin was stood against the wall next to the phonograph - right by the window - whilst his friend remained leant into his cushioned seat, taking casual sips from his wine. Her eyes scanned the room desperately, looking for some kind of help, until she saw the mini bar in the corner.

"Do you not want me to make you a drink first? I thought I was meant to do that. I'm a barmaid you know." She fluttered her eyelashes and giggled, trying to act as if she was perfectly comfortable - a real whore like Tommy had obviously tried to sell her as.

"You can make any drink you want but know that you'll be testing it before either of us drink it. We're not stupid, Alice. Know this before you try anything told to you by Thomas Shelby."

"Fuck!" She started to mentally scream at herself as she realised nothing would go as smoothly as she'd hoped. She looked at the clock on the wall and saw it had only been seven minutes, she would have to think of a plan, fast.

As she sauntered over to the corner, Ergin called for Maximus to enter the room and she knew she'd have to pour the powder into the cups before the vulture like man was watching over her shoulder. So quickly, she pulled the vial from her bra and poured the white substance into each of the three glasses before covering it with whiskey - just as his thin frame reached her side.

She played it cool, pouring mixer into each of the drinks and stirring it with an ornate, metal spoon before she felt a hand gripping her thigh, instantly making her stop.

"You see? She is not a whore. Even one touch and she freezes up." Maximus scoffed. "I bet these drinks are poison too, go on, try one little lamb. Let's see."

Luckily, the drinks weren't too poison, just a tranquilliser, and Alice knew that if she just drank considerably less than them she would stand a better chance at staying awake than the men did. At least the older ones. They already seemed pretty drunk, after all.

"Fine, I'll show you. Maximus." She hissed his name and took a quick gulp from one of the glasses, earning an amused holler from the other two men.

"And the other one too-"

"Ah that is quite enough, my boy. A frightened whore does not perform as well as a comfortable whore. You will see this in a moment." Ergin cut him off with obvious authority, although there was enough care in his tone to imply a close bond between the two - perhaps uncle and nephew or father and son.

Either way, the younger man shut up immediately and stepped back, watching intently as Alice handed the drinks to the men. She now knew it was time to perform and stepped over to the phonograph before Ergin would stand up again to do so, earning a thankful laugh from his fat face as he and his friend lazily gawked at her.

As she gently placed the needle onto the record, she was careful to lean against the window and shift the curtain open - even it was only slightly - knowing that would be enough to let the boys below know the bosses were distracted.

That short feeling of relief was quickly replaced by the anxiety she'd been pushing down as the music started to play and she knew she couldn't postpone the dance any longer. Almost all forms of self harm had always been extremely appealing to Alice until this moment, awkwardly trying to cut her skin whilst remaining sexy and moving on beat. The men didn't care though, excited as she cut off her garters, corset and bra leaving only panties by time the song finished. Her mind had been miles away, not really seeing anything in the room as she danced, so when the trance ended with the music, she was relieved to notice their two cups empty although Maximus' remained full.

"Very nice, but remember what I said? All clothes off-" just as Ergin's instruction struck another deep pang of fear into Alice's chest, a loud bang followed by some shouts came from downstairs and all attention was averted.

"What the fuck was that? Max you go look!" Ergin demanded and the younger man immediately complied, shooting Alice a sharp glare before racing out of the room. From that point on everything moved fast. Too fast for her to properly comprehend.

All of a sudden, Alice felt a heavy force against her face and went flying to the floor, taking a second to realise that Ergin had hit her and was now bent down beside her. The woman could already feel the small amount of tranquilliser making her drowsy and so she knew that he would pass out any minute now - he had to - she just had to hold him off until one of the blinders arrived.

"What have you done, whore? What did you put in Aylin's drink? And what was that bang? You and the blinders have come up with some plan! What is it?" He grabbed her by her hair and pulled her face so that it was inches from his. Out the corner of her eye she could see that his friend had passed out so she just prayed that he would too - but he didn't.

"I said what have you done?" He repeated himself louder, spit flying from his mouth onto her face before he struck her again, once again sending her body to the floor.

She groaned in pain this time and struggled to move away as Ergin towered over her. There was blood all over her body already from the cuts she'd made, now some leaked from her mouth as her lip started to swell and she knew her face would be bruised the next day.

"You really think I drink a drink made by a Shelby whore?" He scoffed before kicking her hard in the ribs, earning another painful groan. "I may be fat and old. But I am not stupid."

From her position on the floor, Alice tried to take the knife off the table but Ergin quickly grabbed her hair again and dragged her around the room, to the chair she'd originally sat on. Memories of Jones flashed agonisingly through her brain every millisecond and she started to really hate Tommy for putting her up to this - yet hate herself more for agreeing to do it. John was right; she did love putting herself in danger. That was until the consequences of the danger hit her like they were right now.

"If he dies, I promise you will regret it very much." As Ergin spoke he placed bullets into a silver pistol, shaking and dropping some as he did.

Although his thick accent was still intimidating and booming, Alice realised he wasn't as powerful as he seemed and was in fact scared or at least nervous.

She looked around desperately for something to defend herself with, slowly regaining her hope; until she saw her handbag and felt a powerful surge of adrenaline. Just as he finished loading the weapon, Alice reached for the bag and pulled it to the ground with her, bloody hands desperately fumbling for the gun inside as she heard the violence downstairs.

"Hopefully that's the Blinders I can hear and not the Turks." Her thought was cut off by Ergin grabbing her again, this time by her neck, and pinning her against a wall. He squeezed tight and stared into her eyes as he did, watching the hope drain from them as the air did from her lungs.

She was almost convinced that these would be her final moments, staring into an ugly face - just as she had been with Jones so many times. Gradually, her body was going limp in his hand, her limbs feeling heavy as she thrashed against him, scratching and spitting like a wild animal.

"You planned ahead for this huh! What is the antidote for this poison? Tell me now!" He shouted, loosening his grip with wide eyes and letting her catch her breath for a second.

Her head was pounding and dizzy but it still worked fast.

"It's, it's in my dress. Sewn in. A small vile." She choked out, the noises downstairs getting louder and her body getting heavier.

As soon as the words left her mouth he dropped her and rushed to the crumpled white velvet by the phonograph, looking worriedly to Aylin before starting to desperately rip at the material.

"You stay there whore or I will kill every single member of the Shelby family, you understand?" He barked with his back facing her, but soon froze as he heard a gun cock and felt the metal pressed to the back of his head.

In that half minute, Alice had managed to get herself up, grab her gun and quietly slink over, leaving a trail of blood behind her on the already red carpet. There were few thoughts as she placed the gun to his head, only one real loud one that screamed "Fuck you!" He didn't deserve a chance to explain himself, he was a pig and now he was going to die.

"There's no antidote. It's not poison, it's a tranquilliser. Your friend would've been fine, you stupid fucking-"

"Please!" He cut her off with a loud beg but before he could let out another word she pulled the trigger - a loud bang echoing through the room.

It didn't move in slow motion like Alice thought it would, instead it was quick and sudden; skull fragments flying and a heavy thud. She'd never taken a life before and it was easier than expected.

Meanwhile downstairs, John heard the gunshot and even amongst the fighting in the lobby, he knew that it came from the suite. His blood immediately ran cold. The Blinders were winning and the Turks were massively outnumbered, but he felt no sense of victory until he knew it was Alice who fired that shot. He looked around the reception desperately, bloodshed all around him, until he spotted a waiter cowering in the corner - obviously not paid enough to be dealing with this.

Eyes wide, he grabbed the man's collar and shouted "Ergin's suite! Now!" to which the man immediately complied, taking him to the hidden staircase that lead directly to the exclusive room.

However, John hadn't been the only one to hear the gunshot. Maximus was already halfway up those stairs when he heard it, running as he reloaded his own weapon and prayed to God that his uncle was alive.

Upon opening the door, he was enraged to see Ergin dead and Alice stood with her gun to Aylin's head, about to shoot the passed out man until he suddenly tackled her, throwing her to the ground and pinning her down with bared teeth - foaming like a rabid dog.

"You fucking bitch!" He shouted, a guttural, grief filled scream as he started to violently shake her shoulders, banging her head against the floor. She was struggling to stay awake at this point and could feel herself slipping into darkness between each painful bump to the head. Still, she tried to fight back against him, punching, screaming and spitting. It was no use though.

He was in a trance like state, mad with grief, rage and shock, turning him into a complete animal with enough strength to break the girl's neck if he wanted despite his skinny frame.

"You evil fucking slut." He hissed, holding both her hands above her head with just one of his whilst the other groped her chest with such force that she screamed in pain. "You think you had it bad with the gypsy scum? Just you wait little girl." He dug in his nails so hard it drew blood, running them down her chest and digging into the fresh cuts made during her dance. There was definitely at least one broken rib he pressed into too, the pain becoming so intense that Alice could barely breathe as she cried out for help.

His hand finally reached her underwear, ripping them off in one swift motion despite her attempts at kicking him away. The feeling of his sharp nails drawing so close to her privates filled Alice with pure terror. A horrific scream left her lungs, followed by a loud sob.

But then suddenly he withdrew and his body was no longer on top of hers - giving her an immense sense of relief. That was until she heard John's voice calling her name and realised the psycho was going after him now.

"He's got a gun, John!" She desperately cried from the floor, her vision fading and not even certain her voice was loud enough for him to hear. She couldn't lift her head or keep her eyes open anymore, all she could do was listen as bullets started flying, empty shells flicking onto her naked body but from who she couldn't tell.

The room fell silent and there was a thud, sounding similar to the one Ergen made when he'd dropped dead earlier - instantly putting Alice's heart in her throat as she prayed it wasn't John's body she heard.

Apart from her own breathing and her heart thudding, she could hear nothing.

"Alice?" His thick Birmingham accent broke the silence and the woman instantly let out a relieved sob, alerting him to her position in the room and he immediately bolted over.

"Fuck." He muttered upon seeing her, more blood than skin visible, and quickly bent down to her side, ripping off his jacket to wrap around her. "Where'd they get you?"

His hands desperately searched her body for a bullet wound, shaking as he struggled to distinguish each injury from the next.

"Alice, where'd they get you?" He repeated, his voice cracking as his worst worries had seemingly come true.

"I-I'm not shot, John." She spluttered, almost laughing with relief. "They made me try the drink. I'll be fine."

Those were the final words she had the strength to say before passing out, much to John's incredible panic as he tried to shake her awake. It was after a few seconds of panic that he decided to believe those words - or at least try to - and he grabbed a blanket to wrap the woman in before rushing down the stairs with her in his arms, holding her tightly against his chest.

It only took a minute for him to get outside and into the closest getaway car, throwing himself into the passenger seat and shouting "Fucking drive!" to Isaiah.

"But Tommy told me to-"

John swiftly pressed his gun to the younger man's head, his pupils maniacally thin and sweat dropping profusely from his forehead.

"I don't give a fucking shit about Tommy! Fucking drive!"

This time the boy immediately complied, stepping on the gas and speeding away as the remaining blinders started the fire that would eventually burn the entire Turkish hotel to the ground - only leaving ashes behind.

[biancabaes]

"It's my pleasure to confirm what I know is true on the first date about you " 🩶

[qiqi-media]

What's in the works

Peaky blinder oneshots

Tommy x OC named Gwendolyn (slightly dark more of gothic fiction)

"Gwendolyn is Tommy's younger wife who after marriage struggles with not being accepted into the Shelby family and living in Grace's shadow. The oneshot is her journey in finding out whether or not Tommy loves her and if being married to him is worth the misery. (Slightly inspired by the movie Rebecca 1940)

Tommy x OC (currently un-named) + Dadtommy! and DarkTommy!

Years after their marriage and becoming the mother to his two existing children and giving him three more, OC and Tommy struggle with their rebellious daughter who is on the brink of adulthood and slipping out of Tommy's grip. Their kids have thankfully never seen the true extent to how violent and controlling Tommy could really be and OC fears that with their daughter's behavior it will resurface. She struggles with wanting to help her daughter find her happiness, despite their rocky relationship or have her face the cold hard truth of what really being a Shelby is: Whatever Tommy says goes

[prettypeppermint]

the oeuvre.

for you.

5/22/24 - homage to the square.

11/21/23 - swan song.

09/19/23 - crane's paradox.

09/16/23 - peach woes.

09/04/23 - the gift of silence (how sweet the sound)

08/28/23 - amazing grace.

08/22/23 - complicatedly breathtaking.

08/21/23 - cherry-pick.

08/19/23 - His gift to man.

08/15/23 - jonathan.

08/13/23 - grottos.

08/11/23 - the unchosen one.

08/05/23 - earth & ocean.

09/25/22 - actions speak louder than words.

05/02/22 - kissing your way out of arguments.

07/07/21 - fools.

06/30/21 - just one.

05/15/21 - sometimes.

x.

[vervainandspritz]

JUST ANOTHER OF YOUR MISTAKES

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, violence, grieving, a lot of pain, eventual fluff, smut

A/N: thanks for reading guys

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE

~~

Y/N was never a light sleeper, but this particular time waking up felt way more difficult than usual. Her head was hurting from all the crying and the last thing she could remember was Tommy holding her against his chest and the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with his own unique scent before she nodded off, unable to handle the recent events.

“Mrs. Shelby, you're awake” One of the maids spoke up with a gentle smile, putting a steaming tea on the nightstand by her side.

Sitting up, Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

“I'm not a Shelby” She responded with more annoyance than she'd like.

“Oh” The older woman said with a hint of shame. “My apologies. Mr. Shelby asked to bring you tea and some pain relief tonic,”

Y/N nodded, thanking her quietly before she rose from the bed, looking around. The room looked familiar in a less than pleasurable way, just like the clothes she was wearing. Sighing deeply she walked out of the room, seeing the dark corridor of the places she once called home.

After getting refreshed and dressed, Y/N walked toward the grand staircase. She stopped cold, feeling goosebumps running through her spine in the worst possible way when she saw the monumental portrait of Thomas and her in the stairwell. One she used to see everyday. The eyes on the portrait looked as lively as ever, mocking the pain she held in her chest every time she saw it. There she was, the former lady of the house, laying claim to her domain even from the grave. The longer she stared at her, the more she felt Grace was taunting her. “You may have been his woman once, but I have his heart and his ring on my finger now.” The words rang in her ears, coming from the depths of her memory, loud as the day she heard them for the first time. Y/N couldn't seem to be able to tear her gaze away, silently battling the ghost that seemed to curse her relationship forever.

She stood there for a long moment, immersed in the painting so much that she didn't realise she was being watched.

Thomas stood in the doorway on the other side of the corridor, watching her silently losing the battle as shame gnawed on his insides. He should have thrown it away long ago, but it was the last thing on his mind as he desperately looked for Y/N everywhere. The dead woman on his wall wasn't a big concern.

“You're awake” He spoke up, unable to handle the silence anymore.

She turned around, almost startled, as he caught her staring at her. The first thing she noticed were the glasses on his nose, and she fought against the little smirk that tried to appear on her lips so badly.

“What am I doing here? Where are the boys?” She asked, straight to the point. Thomas shifted from foot to foot awkwardly, knowing she wouldn't be happy with the news.

“Boys are with Frances upstairs, playing.” He responded, looking her in the eyes. “You're not safe outside of Arrow house. You three need to stay here until the vendetta is over.”

“What if you had more men surrounding my flat instead?” Y/N bargained.

“It’s too dangerous and I need my men concentrated not spread out over cities” he replied, already prepared for the questions he knew she'd ask.

She wanted to argue so badly. Y/N wanted to be free from him and the reminders of the past that this house held. But she knew that receiving a black hand was a serious threat she didn’t have the capacity to handle by herself.

“The only reason I'm not leaving right now is because I need to keep them safe.” She said, stepping closer. “...and if anything happens to us, I want you to know that it's all your fault.”

Despite knowing and seeing the pure hatred in her eyes, Thomas could never fully brace himself for the impact of her words.

“Nothing will happen to any of you. I give you my word” He said, quieter this time.

“Your word means nothing to me, Thomas. Just… just stay away from us as much as possible.” Y/N added, wanting to walk away.

“You can't expect me to stay away. They.. are my kids. My sons.” He said suddenly, and the confidence and fierceness of his voice made her stop in her tracks. “I regret losing you every single day. Every day I grieved the loss of my bloody heart, and then I found out there's three I should have been grieving. But you're here, and so are they. So I won't let yo–them go.” He hissed out, almost frantically and the vulnerability in his eyes made her slightly tremble. It hurt even more, because she waited so long to hear.. anything. Any crumb of reassurance would be enough to keep her here, but he didn't say a fucking word.

Straightening her back, Y/N inhaled a deep breath, looking back at the bloody portrait who was witnessing the whole scene. Seconds later she looked at him again, and the fire in his eyes was more lively, outweighing the dead, judgemental stare.

“They won't call you their father. If you break this rule, you won't see us again.”

***

The next day Y/N woke up, bracing herself for another battle as she walked down the stairs and to her surprise, the portrait was… gone. Her heart thumped wildly at the realisation and she couldn't believe her eyes. Suddenly the tension in the house seemed to have lessened.

Walking to the kitchen, she noticed Thomas sitting by the table with a cup of coffee and a cigarette in his hand, as he read the newspaper. It felt weirdly domesticated and the thought alone made her smirk.

“Did the boys eat?” She asked, not sure what to expect.

“Frances fed them an hour ago. Tommy is napping in the living room, and Nick is picking daisies with Mary in the garden.” He responded in a calm tone, not tearing his gaze away from the newspaper.

Silence hung in the air as they each did their own thing

Finishing up her breakfast, Y/N cleared her throat again as she looked at the wall in front of her.

“The portrait is gone” She pointed out in an emotionless voice, not looking at him. A couple longer moments passed before she heard him exhale a cloud of smoke.

“What portrait? He responded, and Y/N’s lips stretched into a subtle smile before she grabbed her plate and walked away.

A couple days later Y/N still avoided him, occasionally getting to talk to John or Arthur, but both of them were distracted by the giant threat hanging over the family. Polly seemed to keep it together the best, coming over whenever she felt like it for some female company.

Y/N said her goodbyes to Polly, going to put the cups into the sink and cleaning the mess after Nick. She wasn't used to having maids doing everything for her, so it was more comfortable to just clean the mess herself. Nick himself was currently spending time with his uncles by the stables, and Tommy was… who knows where.

After cleaning, Y/N went looking for the other boy, asking Frances who just directed her to the little room where the toys were stored.

She expected everything, but not the view she saw arriving in the doorway. Little Tommy sat back on his legs, watching with wide eyes and furiously colouring the different shapes Thomas drew for him.

“Dat?” Tommy asked suspiciously, pointing towards the crooked flower on the paper and glancing at him with big eyes.

“This?” He asked with a grin, “that's a flower” he explained, to which the boy nodded, narrowing his eyes lightly.

“...and dat?!” He asked suddenly in a squeaky tone, seeing the car Thomas drew for him.

“That's a car. Almost” He chuckled, seeing the crooked shapes as he tried his very best.

Tommy nodded, grinning in the same way as his father before glancing at his mum.

“Hi!” He waved, before pointing to the flower again. “fwowa!” he said proudly, pushing his little chest forward.

Thomas just laughed quietly, putting the pencil down.

“Good job, little man” he said, before slowly rising from the floor with a groan.

“Oh God, I'm too old for this” He whispered with a chuckle, glancing at Y/N who wasn't able to suppress the smile on her face after she heard Tommy talk. “Don't smile like that, now it's your turn.” Thomas added, passing by her in the doorway, his shoulder brushing against hers.

***

The next couple weeks were… rougher. Changretta was relentless in his search, which turned into a couple of seriously dangerous situations where John got shot in the chest barely coming out alive. Polly didn't agree with a lot of Thomas' actions, despite his inability to back off right now. He stood his ground, no matter how difficult it was sometimes to keep Y/N inside Arrow house whenever worse moments would arrive. And they did, fairly frequently.

The pull he felt became stronger and stronger, no matter how many daggers she kept throwing. Spewing the words she held deep inside, reminding him of the monster he used to be… or maybe still was? He couldn't tell. The view in the reflection of his mirror was so blurry, that it didn't matter. As long as she saw him to be fit enough to be around boys.

The house was completely quiet as he made his way through the corridor, lacking the usual sounds of kids playing or Y/N walking from one room to the other. Walking past the library, he caught a glimpse of light coming from the room that made him stop in his tracks.

His hands trembled with anxiety. The fear settled in his ribs over three years ago and hasn't left him once, even though they were here.

Thomas was aware of how powerless he was once the vendetta was over. The thought of them leaving the house and never coming back was making his heart squeeze painfully, reminding him of the privilege he once had, but gave it up willingly. The fear was like a loop, tightening around his throat with each passing day as he grew comfortable coming home and seeing them here.

Walking into the library, Thomas was completely quiet, wanting nothing but to see her if it was all he could count on. He was completely unaware of the fact that she always felt his presence. Sometimes letting him stay, and other times making him leave so desperately that made him wonder whether it was possible to day from a broken heart.

Step after step he tried to control his shallow breathing as he finally saw her. Standing by the big shelf, he traced over the backs of books standing there for so long, it felt like they were always there.

“You wouldn't like that one” He spoke up quietly, noticing how she didn't even budge hearing his voice. It took a longer moment before she replied.

“How so?” Her voice was calm, light-hearted as she found herself lost in the countless stories filling up the wooden shelves. The nagging thoughts in his mind disappeared the second he heard her voice.

“Because you don't like uncertainty. It's filled with unanswered questions and has an open ending.” He thought for a moment before replying, well aware of the content of this book, because he read them all. In the moments of despair, trying to hold onto every scrap of feelings in the house so empty, it felt like nobody lived inside.

Sighing deeply, Y/N put the book back in its place, grabbing another one.

“Nobody likes uncertainty, Thomas. Holding onto the moment, unsure of what's to come.” She sighed, hearing his slow footsteps approaching. “A book is just a book. You can close it, and move onto another one anytime. If only life was just as easy.”

Silence in the room caused the whole scenery to become more intimate, unexpectedly even for him. Stopping mere inches behind her, he watched the back of her head for a moment, remembering the nightmares he had every night. Ones where he couldn't reach her, no matter how he tried.

His breath caught in his throat as he slowly raised his hand, moving it closer and closer towards her shoulder. Inches away, he noticed the goosebumps covering her skin. Without looking he reached out to the shelf, grasping onto the book he knew by heart, while his arm brushed against her own.

He stood close, too close, and Y/N knew it too well, yet she couldn't bring herself to make him leave or pull away. The way he trembled as his chest pressed lightly against her back made her stand still.

“You'd love this one” He whispered, not feeling brave enough to speak loudly. The uncertainty they talked about he knew better than anything else.

Her breathing became heavier, feeling him so close, the tingling on her skin she hadn't felt for so long almost made her flinch. Slowly, she turned around facing him.

This, Thomas didn't expect as she suddenly looked up, their eyes meeting in a gaze long forgotten, yet still alive and lively as when they looked for the first time.

“I don't read anymore” She confessed quietly, and his eyes couldn't help but watch her lips intently. The way they wrapped around the words she spoke.

The urge to grab and hold her closer was strong, almost too strong. Tommy tilted his head to the side, getting a better look at her face in the dim light.

“I can read it to you” He offered quietly, as it was the closest she allowed him to… just be near her.

So he waited, scared of ruining the moment as she moved closer. Their noses brushing against each other.

“I wanted you to speak, not read.” The sound of her voice was like the most beautiful music he ever got to listen to, even though the words were far from it. “...but now it's too late, and you're standing too close.” her breath touched his lips, taunting.

…and then she pulled away, leaving him standing there. Slowly making her way out of the library.

“You're cruel” He said, loud enough for Y/N to hear.

***

Y/N opened her eyes suddenly, sitting up as she took a deep breath, desperately trying to blink away the nightmare she had. The clock showed three AM in the morning, and her heart was pounding from the fear she felt. One she rarely felt anymore, feeling as Thomas was taking it over day by day, despite her unwillingness to share anything. Even the broken, ugly parts he ruined.

His cold eyes kept looking at her in the dream, so unfazed by the idea of her absence. The humiliation turned into physical tears rolling down her cheeks as the memories clouded her reasoning.

Getting up from her bed, she remembered the way he touched her. Avoiding her eyes, throwing his head back. Not bothering to bare himself, so eager to take but never give. Forcing her to pour from a completely empty cup.

Her bare feet were cold against the floor as she quickly made her way through the corridor, knowing where she'd find him. Swiftly opening the door to his office, Y/N didn't bother to say a word or wipe her tears away as she quickly walked up, not looking him in the eyes.

“Y/N?” He asked, taking his glasses off and setting them on his desk while she suddenly pulled him back, creating more space to straddle his lap. Tears kept streaming in a smaller amount, but never ending as she ripped his shirt open, baring his chest.

“What are you–” He tried to speak up, but she didn't let him, as she pressed her lips against his so aggressively his breath caught in his throat.

Pulling on his belt she unbuckled it skillfully, a motion she knew too well from all these years ago. The inner pain burned her chest as she kissed and bit him, while pushing his arms away.

“Shut up” She hissed, as the humiliation from the memories took over her mind. The shame of giving and never asking for more. Of being taken and left without any rest. Pulling his pants open she stroked him impatiently, doing just enough to get him going. It wasn't difficult, as he was the only man she ever slept with, knowing his habits and body more than she'd care to admit.

Her nails raked over his throat and chest, ripping a deep groan from his throat.

He didn't dare to ask, feeling and giving everything she wanted to take. Despite the burning, the physical attraction and need she felt was stronger, her arousal glistening and visible as she lined him up with her entrance, not caring enough to be slow or subtle as she sank down on him fully. A subtle moan pushed past her lips as she squeezed her eyes tightly, doing the same thing he used to.

His eyes were wide open, taking the beautiful sight of her on top of him, but the expression on her face made him hurt so badly, he thought he might not survive. He reached out, wanting her to look at him, but she refused, keeping her eyes squeezed tightly as she moved on top of him frantically chasing her release.

“Y/N” He begged quietly, as her hands wrapped around his throat, squeezing to cause pain.

“I hate you. I hate you so much” She whimpered, as his fingers dug into her thighs.

“Please” He whispered, and she let go of his throat, digging her nails into his shoulders.

Thomas wanted to reach out to wipe her tears away, but he knew she wouldn't let him.

So he leaned forward, his forehead pressing against her collarbone when he let out a shaky breath.

“I love you” He whispered weakly, holding her tightly as she haven't stopped moving even for a second, brimming on the edge.

“I hate you. I fucking hate you” She cried out, opening her eyes as she looked down at him, meeting his gaze. His eyes were half lidded but he didn't give up, staring and repeating like mantra.

“I love you” kept spilling from his lips as she reached her peak, causing him to follow right after as they reached the release.

His head fell forward, tears escaping his tired eyes as she quickly got off of him, leaving him without a word.

***

Y/N was growing increasingly restless inside of the Arrow House. Her days had been filled with reading and finding activities to keep her sons occupied, which took less time than usual, as Thomas took every opportunity to spend time with them. There was one room she had only been in once prior on this visit. She shuddered at the memory of her desperate conflicted intimacy with Thomas. Y/N knew that room would hold a concentrated form of his presence and essence, even more so after that night. She wasn’t sure if she felt strong enough to enter his sanctum again, but while Thomas was away on business and her boys were having their afternoon nap, the curiosity overcame her hesitation as she entered his space.

It was incredibly… him with deep mahogany furnishings and sumptuous emerald accents. During that night, she had paid no attention to the surroundings in the office - only to him and her inner emotions. Slowly she went deeper into his study, turning on a lamp at his desk. She could picture him here with those round glasses on, absorbed in matters of business both legitimate and less so. To the side of his desk was a small curio cabinet filled with antiquities and presumably family mementos. It hardly garnered a second thought from her until she noticed a figurine on the top shelf next to an old photograph of Thomas and his siblings. It was the figurine.

Before the war, before everything changed, she and Thomas would wander around Birmingham together - young and full of optimism. Both their families were poor and doing their best to survive in the cruel world, but they were the dreamers of their respective clans. He and Y/N often visited a certain shop that sold trinkets and collectables. Y/N yearned to be able to spend money on frivolous little objects like these one day. There was a specific figurine that she longed to own: a porcelain ballerina with graceful fingers and a white and pink lace ruffled skirt. She thought ballerinas were the most fairy-like women that walked the Earth. Of course neither of them could afford such a beautifully crafted figurine, but Y/N swore that one day they would walk in that shop and purchase her ballerina without a second thought to the cost.

That never happened, yet here it was, that same figurine she had seen so many years before sitting in Thomas’ curio cabinet in his most sacred space of his home. She didn’t know what it meant, but she felt tears prick her eyes at the reminder of those beautiful days from their youth. If only they could be like that again. If only the war and the turmoil after it hadn’t soured the tender young love they had known.

“I see you found your way back to my study” Thomas’ deep voice called from the doorway. Y/N was startled. She had been so lost in her memories and feelings that she hadn’t noticed his presence. She shifted awkwardly.

“Yeah, it seems like it.” She responded, glancing towards the curio cabinet. He slowly came up closer, a small grin on his face.

“What did you find?” Thomas asked, tilting his head to the side. Of course he knew what she saw, but wanted to hear it.

“I can’t believe you remembered my ballerina” Y/N said, not meeting his gaze.

“I went back to the shop to get it, but old Mr. Jones said he’d sold it years before. It took some hunting, but I eventually found her. I was hoping to someday show it to you, but… seems like you found her instead.”

“Why?” she questioned him in a small voice.

“Because this is how I remember you. You always said the ballerina was like a fairy or goddess come to Earth, but to me… when I saw that ballerina figure, I saw you.” Y/N’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as she glanced back towards the cabinet and then back at the man in front of her. Letting out a deep sigh, she wiped her eyes.

“Why now? Why did it take you so long to… to do this? Anything. I waited so long and… and now it's too late, Thomas.” She said, looking at him with an expression that crushed him. Feeling his breath hitch painfully, he felt his throat tightening. He had grieved over losing her and now that Y/N was physically here, she had never felt more far away from him.

After looking into her eyes for a longer moment, Tommy grabbed her hand, slowly straightening it against his palm while the other one reached to his holster, pulling out his gun. Y/N’s eyes widened, but his gaze remained locked on hers, not faltering.

Finally, he didn't feel the fear. Holding the loaded gun, he slowly shoved it into her smaller hand, aiming it forward before he closed his eyes. Pushing his forehead against the muzzle tightly, keeping her wrist upright.

“Then kill me.” He said out loud, the words hanging in the air for a moment. “Because otherwise I will never let you go, no matter how hard you try.”

Thanks for reading lol bye

@iilovedonnatartt @gentlebeari @narlytude @garrison-girl-08 @chaimaarouaine11 @bruhidkjustwannaread @reiwanwan @immyowndefender @jbrownta @honeymoon8

@dannysankletattoo

[brummiereader]

Binding Love (Part One/ Dark!Tommy)

Summary: After a morning of negotiations between lawyers, the day goes wasted when Tommy takes it upon himself to interfere in court proceedings. With your muddled intentions made clear, and your husband's declarations of love forcefully made known, a blazing row erupts between you both in the bustling streets of Birmingham. Will you ever be free from your husband's restraints? Do you even want to be?

Warnings: Dark!Tommy, language, violence, psychological mind games, controlling behaviour, toxic relationship, manipulative behaviour, psychological abuse, mutual pining, angst.

Word Count: 5K

Authors Note: For the purpose of depicting the manipulative behaviour of Tommy in the first part of this chapter, I've taken it upon myself to have radios become a common feature in cars before they were. We'll pick back up from the first scene again in the last chapter. The song playing on the car radio is called "Release Me" by Engelbert Humperdinck.

[Masterlist] [Trailer] [Main Masterlist]

" Please release me, let me go. For I don't love you, anymore..." the sound of your husband's humming voice accompanied by the taunting song and a sharp turn of the cars rumbling wheels on the gritted ground, jolted you from the daze your tired body had drifted into.

"Tommy...Tommy!" you began to frantically cry into the darkness, faced once again with the horrors sleep had dulled for you. A slither of light beaming through a crack in the rear headlights, the salty air of sand and kelp your only comfort to stop your racing heart from plunging you into complete obscurity.

"Tommy please! I'm...I'm sorry! I was scared...you were scaring me!" Your stifled breath wept with desperation as you begged for mercy before panic took over, and you succumbed to the tight enclosure.

Losing track of the countless halting stops, the speeding turns as Tommy's foot pressed down onto the pedal with determination. You had given up on trying to route your husband's destination and fallen into a weary haze of slumber. But with Tommy's clear attempt to awaken you, and bless his lonely thoughts with the beauty of your strangled cries, he had also awoken the searing panic within you once again.

How many hours had it been...fuck, how many hours had it been?! How much air was left?!, your frightened mind scrambled to make sense of the amount of time that had passed through the music loudly confusing any tangible answer you could come to.

" I can't breathe...Oh my god, I...I can't breathe!" your chest heaved in a frenzy, relenting to the alarming situation you had distanced yourself from as your hands searched to ground your body before you let what was left of your sanity slip into the terror your husband was hellbent on inflicting on you.

" Tommy! I...I can't breathe!" your hand flew to your chest as adrenaline coursed through the blood pumping furiously throughout your body. Every muscle reacting in a torturous plea for you to flee the inescapable.

" Maybe you should stop screaming, sweetheart" Tommy's voice rose above the music as a wicked smirk etched on the corner of his curling lips. His arm resting casually on the open window with a lit cigarette perched between his fingers as one would on a leisurely Sunday drive in the country.

" You bastard!" you snapped forgetting yourself, throwing the warranted insult his way as a low chuckle obnoxiously echoed back to you in response.

" And to think I put a cushion in there for you" he teased, if only to spur on the enticing game of cat and mouse he had become the sole player of.

" Don't say I don't do anything nice for you, eh?" a slither of irritation seethed at the end of his tongue for the chaos he blamed you for. For the cascade of selfish decisions you had made he blamed on the day's events.

How could you have done this to him, after all...no. After everything he'd lovingly done for you to keep you away from those that wanted to ruin what you shared.

" I hate you...I fucking hate you! I never loved you Tommy, just like your fucking song! I don't love you! Are you listening?! " your screams continued as you thrashed your limbs against the walls. Desperately trying to garner a reaction out of him as your lungs heaved for the stolen air, panic had snatched from them.

And a reaction you got, but one you'd be thankful to not have witnessed when Tommy shifted in his seat, loosening the collar of his shirt from the restricting pang of anger bobbing in his throat. His jaw clenching into a grating sound of teeth grinding on top of one another as the blue of his eyes eclipsed with a foreboding shade of coal at the lies you had spoken to scorch him. Lies he knew were only said to fool yourself into believing, rather than succumbing to the truth that your doting husband was, and always would be, the only man you would ever love.

You were just...tired. A knock to the head would make anyone confused, Tommy told the distasteful burn that had settled on his chest as the calloused pads of his fingers turned the volume up to drown out any more unwarranted admissions that would have him act out on the sting you had pierced him with.

"I'm warning you, eh? You hear me? One more fucking word Y/N, I dare you!" Tommy's voice loudly ordered with a shuddering tone of control as his eyes narrowed in on the road in front of him. His leather gloves snapping with a crisp creak under his curling fingers as they tightly grasped around the steering wheel. Tethering on the idea of stopping the car to an abrupt halt and dealing with you by hand.

Wiping the tears from your eyes, your trembling bottom lip steadied itself from any further statements you'd be a fool to make as the toying melody lulled your weeping body back into hopelessness. Your eyes drifting to the narrow rays of the sun fading with each passing minute.

Hovering your fingers over the dusting of light, you began to quietly mouth the tormenting lyrics of the song Tommy had chosen to accompany your long drive into the unknown as you let your body sink into itself.

Feeling a strangled cry build in your throat, one last frustrated thrash of your elbow against the side of the car boot had a flash of light searing into the darkness, causing your head to turn from the glaring brightness of the outside world now beaming into your enclosure.

" Shit, shit..." your head turned in a panic to see the back headlight gone, your pent-up hopelessness now your saviour.

Whipping your head back to the sound of your husband's toying lips whistling in tune to the song, your heart pounded rapidly against your chest as you waited for him to acknowledge his taillight skimming across the road. But when no reaction came, you tempted fate and slipped your arm through the open gap, frantically waving your hand in hopes somebody would see.

Hearing the rumbling sound of a car approaching, you pushed your arm further through the shards of glass as you desperately tried to alert its drivers' attention.

" No, no, no..." you cried, pulling away to see the car disappear into the fading sun, hurtling all despair back to you in a strangled muffle of cries.

Readying yourself for the burning sting once again, you pushed your bloody hand back into the sharp teeth of your only escape, forcing it through until your shoulder met the door of your prison one last time.

And that's when you felt it. The lock that had kept you captive for countless hours in the dark.

In for a penny, in for a..., your teeth bit down onto your wobbling bottom lip, dried with a layer of blood from the dripping gash on your forehead.

Steadying your heavy breaths from backing out, you pushed your thumb down onto the chrome button, committing to your escape and the horrors you would face if your husband caught you.

With a subtle click, the door effortlessly popped open as you pulled yourself up with shaky hands, throwing the weight of your body out onto the road without care to any car approaching or injury you'd likely sustain as Tommy's foot slammed on the breaks to a screeching halt.

" Now just where do you think you're going..." Tommy's eyes narrowed, the rolled cylinder of tobacco resting between his plump lips puffing a cloud of smoke with each quiet breathy observation as he flicked the wing mirror with his finger to see the reflection of you scrambling to your feet.

" Help! Somebody!" You screamed in horror as you ran barefoot along the gritted ground. Only a thin slip covering your modesty, Tommy hadn't given you a chance to conceal with his unexpected appearance that morning.

"Shit" Tommy huffed throwing the door open, discarding the burnt cigarette from his mouth as he bolted after your sprinting feet.

" C'mon darling, don't make a scene!" you heard his gravelly voice call after you as you dared to look back to see him chasing towards you with a malicious smile of amusement toying on the corners of his lips.

With no sign of life but the two of you on the long winding road, you took your chances in the bushy hedgerow, heading down the dangerous coastal path with screams of terror as Tommy stayed hot on your heels behind you.

But your frantic escape and pleas for help would go unheard among the thrashing sound of waves, leaving only the echos of the melody coming from Tommy's abandoned car in the middle of the lone country road, and the ticking of its blinkers counting the moments down until he caught you.

"Please release me, let me go. For I don't love you anymore. To waste our lives would be a sin..."

One month earlier...

"Shit, I'm sorry. I don't..I don't have any change" your cheeks reddened with embarrassment as your fingers fumbled with the small, empty purse. Not a single shilling nestled within its velvety padding. Not a single penny to your name.

"My husband wi..." you stopped yourself, feeling a fool to have even referred to him as such, that you were going to rely on him to settle your fare, knowing full well he'd find enjoyment paying on your behalf with the proceedings set to take place in a moment's time.

" S'alright, Mrs Shelby. On the house" the taxi driver nodded to you in the rear mirror with a bushy bearded smile. For he was not foolish enough to follow in suit with your slipping tongue and make the wife of the leader of the Peaky Blinders pay a sum so trivial it could see him costing a finger his profession deemed vital.

" Thank you, Jeffery. But after today I'll no longer be, Mrs Shelby" you stated, opening the car door to a gust of autumn air nipping at your cheeks, your heels stepping onto the cobbled street, that paved your way to the grand building where a judge would decide on your future.

Strutting into the towering structure, you held your head high as your heels loudly echoed along the marble floors. But as you pushed through the heavy court doors, your mustered confidence took a sudden blow when the room turned to face you and the man that would reside over your divorce proceedings, scolded you like a child in front of a class of their peers.

" You're late, Mrs Shelby" he looked past the rims of his glasses as your pace slowed in a desperate attempt to muffle your poor choice of shoes and the unwarranted attention it garnered.

"I'm sorry your honor" you apologised, shamed in front of everyone as you hurried past the set of blue eyes following your every step. His piercing stare roaming over your body from head to toe, to every curve your fitted dress accentuated. His head leaning into your musky perfume filled with notes of amber and vanilla that drifted past him in a gentle greeting as you took your seat next to your solicitor. The intoxicating smell enough to cause a breathy exhale of repressed want from his throat. Tommy.

Feeling the intent stare of your husband boring into your heated cheek, you whipped your head up from the documents between your painted nails to see Tommy leant back in his chair, admiring your choice of outfit from between the men of law that separated you. Why did he have to look at you that way? He was doing it on fucking purpose.

Snapping your eyes away, a screeching sound of a chair scraped along the floor, followed by the heavy footsteps of your husband approaching.

" Darling" he greeted, taking the opportunity to approach you and the tray of refreshments stood feet from your desk as the fumbling Judge lay out your weighty file in front of him with the help of his assistant.

"Tommy" you replied, eyes fixed on the documents in front of you, trying your upmost to shield yourself from the pull of his daily dose of sweet-talking.

Scoffing a chuckle, Tommy raised the glass tumbler of water to his grinning lips. Amused by the cold shoulder you were adamant on giving him.

"Quite the entrance. Was that little show all for me..." You suddenly felt the heat of his body next to you, his distinct cologne of tobacco intertwined with whiskey and soot filling your senses. "...eh?" he perched himself on the edge of your desk as he leant into your ear, his fiery breath sending a ripple of goosebumps down your neck as the beginnings of a cocky smile curled against your skin.

" No" you firmly stated, feeling the remaining surges of embarrassment making laps in your stomach as you raised your eyes to see the smug smirk of enjoyment plastered across his face. Did you do it for him? Were you still seeking his attention, his approval after all this time, after everything that had happened?

" You sure, sweetheart?" his brows knitted together, mischief twinkling in the corners of his creased eyes as his hand reached under the table, roaming under your dress until his fingers met the clasps of your garter and unclipped one.

"Hmm, such a tease" he chuckled to himself, feeling the sting of your hand slapping his fingers away. Toying with your emotions and the agreed boundaries he was unwilling to follow once again.

Whether it be to purposely play with you or sheer refusal to admit he was the one that had pushed you to this point. Tommy didn't care. For your husband would never abide by anyone, let alone follow life's rules that weren't from the beat of his own drum.

" Be seated everyone" the Judge ordered, bringing your racing heart down to a manageable speed as Tommy scooted off the wooden table onto two feet, adjusting his suit before reluctantly playing along to the six-month temper tantrum he believed you was having.

As the dreary morning of papers being sent back and forth between lawyers, of decisions over the custody of your shared child continued. Tommy made it his sole mission to find an issue with every suggestion raised. Addressing only you throughout the entire ordeal as his generously paid lawyer, buried his head in his hands with frustration.

" Mr Shelby" the Judge's voice rose above Tommy's interruptions as he wiped the bead of sweat that had settled on his temple. A huff of defeat in response to the insult that he, a man of his position, couldn't keep his courtroom and its sole troublemaker under control.

" Two Sundays out of the month, Y/N? I won't allow it, understood? Sunday is family time and we'll spend it together, whether you like it or not" Tommy rolled his shoulders, straightening the lapels of his suit jacket as the Judge desperately tried to bring order to the room.

"Why don't we go back home and end this fucking circus, eh? I'll make love to you, we'll take Elsie out for an afternoon with the horses..." Tommy trailed off into a tangent of things he'd rather be doing than sitting in the stuffy room he was currently forced to be in with a wigged man telling him what he could and couldn't do with his family.

"Mr Shelby, I beseech you" the Judge removed his glasses, peering at your husband's lawyer to keep control of his client.

" You really want to do this, eh? To our daughter? Y/N? Y/N?!" the last of Tommy's patience quickly evaporated as you snapped your head away from his bellowing voice to the window beside you, tears spilling over your cheeks.

" Mr Shelby!" The magistrate slammed his hammer down onto its wooden pillow as an exasperated sigh at the tiresome morning loudly left his throat.

Ignoring the resonating boom of the wooden hammer, Tommy rested his arm on the back of his lawyer's chair as he leaned in. Whispering his orders into his ear as his scorching stare stayed fixed on you.

Daring to challenge the piercing pair of eyes burning into you, you raised your head as your husband's lawyer approached the bench with his orders.

Gaze drifting up from his clenched fists, you were met with nothing but anger. Anger at your refusal to bring an end to the whole charade, for your unwillingness to let him back into your martial bed over a paddy he believed would fizzle out within a week's time. How had things gotten to this point? Or more precisely, what had your dear husband done to push you to this point?

" Proceedings are postponed until further notice" the Judge's damning words shocked you out of your husband's hold on your every thought as your eyes darted to your lawyer.

" All rise" the portly guard beside him announced as those present dispersed from the room, leaving you with darting eyes scanning the empty rows of chairs until they settled on Tommy, and the satisfied smirk he was maliciously sending your way.

"What did you do? Tommy! What did you do?!" you shouted, storming over to him as he rose from his seat. Unbothered by your fit of rage and the role he played in its sudden appearance.

"You're so angry all the time, darling" he replied, dismissing your questions as his hands snaked over your waist, playfully pouting down at your widening eyes as if the entire ordeal was nothing but a small spat between a married couple.

"You might wanna get that checked love, can't be good for you, now can it?" He continued to rile you up after getting his way as you pushed him off you, feeling fooled by your lawyers guarantee that not even your husband could bring a halt to court proceedings after the lengthy battle you had already fought to get this point.

Tears settling between your lashes, you shook your head in disbelief at another delay to your freedom as you ran from the courtroom and your husband calling your name.

" Y/N!" Tommy's voice bellowed into the chilly blue sky as he followed after your hurried steps down to the bustling main road of Birmingham's town center.

"Hey!" He grabbed hold of your hips, spinning you around to face him and the tears streaming down your reddened cheeks.

"Hey..." he hushed your cries as you clutched your arms around your body from the bitter breeze of winter slowly rolling in.

"Here" he pulled his black overcoat from his shoulders, wrapping it around your trembling body, you shrugged off the moment it's warmth enveloped you.

No matter what he did, you wouldn't let him in. Why wouldn't you fucking let him back in?!, Tommy thought to himself, throwing his coat on the hood of his car. Oblivious or rather, ignorant to how he had toyed with you moments earlier.

" Why are you doing this, Tommy? We agreed to this. You agreed to this!" a sigh of defeat had your head turning in frustration to the cobbled ground below you. A stream of tears following in tow.

"Forced my hand more like" his huffy response snapped back as he fished in his suit jacket for a cigarette.

Eyes cast down, Tommy's stare darted between your tear-ridden cheeks and the morning dash of men and women hurrying to their places of work as you both stood in silence.

"Hey, look at me" he cupped your chin, turning your head to face him as he shuffled from foot to foot with a breathy exhale. "We'll deal with this in private, alright?" his brows raised, only to be welcomed with your rolling eyes of skepticism on what the word private actually meant to your husband whose idea of a fair deal was only if he was the one making all the deciding factors.

"Y/N?" he waited on your answer, softly brushing a lock of hair from your cheek when his eyes caught the sight of a police car sat guzzling gas on the opposite side of the road, and the prick inside he'd learnt had been hounding you for months on the whereabouts of his colleague.

Jaw tightening, Tommy watched as the detective gave a two-finger salute before turning the wheels of his car into the road and driving off with a pleased smirk. A clear provocation to rile up the notorious gangster on a day he knew Tommy's reputable temper could see him snap given the right push, in the right direction.

" Y/N?" his attention flew back to you as he cupped your cheeks in his hands. " I don't want this" he held your gaze as the end of his cigarette sizzled inches from your cold cheeks.

" I love you" his stare intensified as he wet his lips, his hands reinforcing his words with a stern shake to your face. " I can't lose you. If you want me to change...fuck, I'll change, alright?"

" For god's sake Tommy, that's not...not what I want from you" You felt a surge of disappointment plummet to the bottom of your stomach at the empty promises you had heard countless times before. Hoping that for once, just once, he'd say something that could reassure you enough to put a stop to the yearning you had to reconcile without a shit load of regret following shortly after it.

"I was just keeping you safe, darling" his hands dropped to your arms, tenderly rubbing them within his palms.

" Is that what you want me to do? Pull back my men? Is that what this is all about, eh?" He continued with his refusal to acknowledge the lengths he'd gone to keep control over every waking moment of your day.

" You've given up on us, haven't you?" Tommy huffed at your silence and the reaction it had on his grating need to have your undivided attention at all times.

"Just know this is all on you, eh? Our daughters' parent's separated because of you. Great fucking example you're showing her, darling. Well done" Tommy shook his head, viscously switching his mood back to his bitter brooding over your lack of response, and the expected answer you were unwilling to give.

Your silence being enough to make clear where you stood on the matter, you turned to leave as his hurtful words settled in your chest. Burrowing down to your heart, to the pang of guilt you felt for the stress you was putting your six-year-old daughter through.

"Where are you going?" He stopped you from taking another step as he grabbed hold of your arm.

" Into town" you attempted to shrug off his grip as you watched the barrage of questions form behind his eyes.

" You need some money?" He slipped his burning cigarette between his lips as he pulled out a bundle of cash, flicking through the notes.

" No" you huffed, folding your arms away from him as a wave of embarrassment that you didn't have the money for a taxi fare, let alone a trip into town without your husband giving you your weekly pocket money, scorched you with humiliation.

" Why not?" Tommy's brow furrowed as he threw his cigarette to the ground. " Y/N, why not?" His question turned into an urgent demand to know what had you needing to walk into the city for something he could get one of his men to fetch for you.

Fuck sake, you sighed to yourself, feeling the familiar tone of interrogation seeping though his questions. You just wanted space, space away from the house you still found yourself sharing with him, from the constant reminder of happy memories spent together, from him, from him and his fucking need to know your whereabouts every hour of every second of the day.

"You have someone else paying for this outing into town, is that why you don't need my money, eh? Tommy's paranoia started to turn it's ugly head into an onslaught of never-ending questions.

"Going on another fucking date, hm? Like you did with that pig" his grip tightened, releasing his pent-up anger out on your reddening arms as he glared at you with eyes burning with enough fury to heat your face.

" It's was a friendly dinner..." You sighed with frustration at his inability to stop himself before he pushed you further away with words intended to hurt.

" You meeting someone, Y/N? You fucking somebody, eh?" His voice rose, letting go of the little self-restraint he still possessed as he abruptly pulled you into his body.

" Why you doing this to me, hm?" His voice suddenly softened into desperate pleas anyone would think was an end to his anger. But his tight hold on your body as his cheek pressed against yours, the sound of his gritted teeth grinding together against your ear, enough to tell you otherwise that his fury was seconds away from bubbling over.

" Tommy stop...enough!" You managed to push him away as you turned to leave, refusing to withstand another second of the man that had replaced your once doting husband.

" You won't get rid of me that easily, darling! I won't let it happen!" His voice bellowed into the soot filled air, garnering the attention of those within ear shot. "You marry a Shelby, you stay married! You hear me?! You stay, fucking married!"

" Fuck!" His hands slammed against the door of his car as his lawyer nervously approached, announcing his presence with the clearing of his throat.

" What?!" Tommy's head snapped back to the fumbling man with a file of papers requiring his attention.

" See that those get lost" Tommy's demeanor quickly simmered, keeping the only document that held any interest before piling the rest into the arms of his lawyer.

Sinking into the driver's seat, his true intentions, written in the words of his solicitor, found their way into the glove box as one of his men slid into the passenger's side.

" What's the plan boss?'" the peaked soldier questioned, his voice drowning out into a distant muffle of unintelligible words as Tommy's eyes followed you walking along the cobbled path. His fingers hovering over the ignition, ready to leave when you turned back to look at him with locks of hair dancing in front of your eyes, cheeks rosy red from the chill that had settled over the foggy city. The sight twisting an unbearable urge within him to have you walk back to him, to have you back in his arms.

Were you coming back to him?, Tommy waited, a breath of anticipation catching in his throat as you stood from afar before the ends of your dress turned with a gust of wind, pushing you around the corner out of sight.

" Boss?" The peaky asked, waiting for his orders as his hand rested on the handle of the door.

" Follow her"

" Fuck..." you stifled the steady flow of tears trickling down your cheeks as you darted into a narrow bricked path behind a row of shops. A face as famous as yours was, and would always be a topic of conversation, even more so with a set of tears covering it.

How had it come to this? Was it after the birth of your daughter? No, no, before then? When you was dating?", you plagued yourself with the same frequency of questions your husband tired you with.

No matter how many questions your weary thoughts tormented you with, the truth was, you couldn't pinpoint when your marriage fell apart. It had happened slowly, small changes gone unnoticed. And then, in true Tommy fashion, accelerated to a point where the ignored had become glaringly obvious.

Yet still, wrenching pangs of yearning had you feeling like you couldn't live without him as long sleepless nights dragged on. The heat of his body absent from under the sheets of your martial bed. He was all you had ever known. And he knew it. He knew it.

"You'll pay privy to his crimes when I finally get him, Mrs Shelby. You and your daughter" a voice snatched you from the beckoning memories of your husband's arm wrapped tightly around your waist.

" Leave me alone" your eyes snapped up as you blinked your tears away, pulling yourself from the detective that had tracked you down for a second time that week.

" You're making a mistake" he caught your arm, forcing you to face his insistent inquiries into your husband.

"For the last time, I don't know anything. Now let me go" you echoed the countless responses you had already given.

One dinner had landed you not only at the brunt end of Tommy's raging anger, that you had dared to entertain someone of the opposite sex that was neither blood nor bound to you by marriage, but the watchful eye of your date's colleague, adamant on finding what he believed would be his partner's dead body, murdered at the hands of your husband after a fit of jealousy.

" I can offer you protection, away from him. All you have to do..." He slipped his details into your hand before you abruptly put an end to his concerns for your safety.

" I said, leave me alone" you pulled his hand off you, tired of being man-handled, of being expected to appease every living fucking creature of the opposite sex.

"You'll be next, Mrs Shelby. Mark my words!" He shouted to you as you drifted back into the bustling streets, his words leaving a harrowing sense of dread tightening around your throat as you shoved his card within the warmth of your pocket.

" Tommy doesn't share his toys!" The last of his warnings rang back to you as you leaned against a lonely lamp post, steadying the weight of your body against its metal frame when the world you were trying to flee from appeared in the corner of your eyes in the form of a peaked cap soldier watching from afar.

In sickness and in health, until death do us part. Would you ever be free from the binding love that had chained you together? Or would fate echo the words of your shared vows spoken on your wedding day?

Next Part

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[cljordan-imperium]

Congratulations @peakyswritings on 2k followers!!!! 💜💛💜💛💜💛

Anna had been friends for a long time with Tommy. He didn't know what she was , but he knew she ran in dark circles like he did. He just didn't know how dark. He didn't know how often the ethereal blonde had interceded to keep him safe from things even his dark mind could not have created. But she could not always be there when creatures of darkness came to strike bargains with Tommy, and now he'd struck one that has her visit being one that obroke her heart. Now, she would hold the one to hold the blade, draw the blood, and give him his last kiss as the breath of life left him...

[randomcreator-09]

SMALL HEATH'S SONGBIRD OUT EBERYIBODY!!!!

REBLOG AND KUDOS MUCH APPRECIATED ^^ <3

[traumadumpwriter]

Freedom: A John Shelby Fanfiction

Heavy trigger warning: Blood, violence, gore. Mentions of self harm, sexual assault and rape.

Check out the other chapters by going on the Freedom tag on my page!

Sorry for the slow updates. I'm much more regular on my Wattpad and already have a lot more chapters uploaded there. The @ is slowlychanging.

Don't forget to like and comment if you're enjoying! It really does mean a lot. Stay safe xx

Chapter Twelve : 3370 words

The next couple of days were spent in that bed, John refusing to let Alice even get up to cook. He was cautious and weary, strictly following the instructions given by the nurse of bed rest for at least a week - although Alice's seductive nature meant perhaps she wasn't resting as much as needed.

"Darling I don't wanna hurt you. Are you sure this is alright?" Despite the concern his lips were pulled into a grin as he hovered over her, eyes absorbing every inch of exposed skin.

"Yes it's fine. Just don't be rough. We can do slow, can't we." She replied with a smirk, running her fingers down along his chest until they reached the button of his trousers.

No one had come and bothered them, not even Pol, meaning they'd stayed in their loving bubble with mostly no worries of the outside world for over 72 hours now. A pure and rare reprieve for the pair.

If even the slightest bit of upset crossed either of their minds, they were quickly distracted by the other - either by the uncontrollable lust or almost unstopping conversation, the most obscure facts being revealed about one another with every passing hour. The room was rarely silent; chatter, laughter, moans, but when it was - the silence was welcomed. Laid on their sides, devoutly staring into each other's eyes and keeping their fingers intertwined - at times it felt too good to be true.

The only emotional discomfort truly experienced by either was by John after Alice would fall asleep - her still face and closed eyes somehow ending the spell of daytime bliss. Instead it reminded him of the things he was desperate to say, although the responses were possibly not ones he wanted to hear. There was still reprieve however; waking up from his bad dreams and being able to smell Alice's hair instantly dissolved any panic that would've usually affected him.

His favourite times were the mornings. The early sun, white in its shine as it peaked through the curtain, perfectly illuminating her - an angel in his baggy top. Her soft, sleep ridden voice and quiet giggle at his half awakened face, followed by a cheeky remark as he peppered her neck with sloppy kisses. She would ask him how he slept, he would say "fine" so as not to talk about it, then she would tell him about her dreams - her animated voice as she described the nonsensical plots bringing a smile to his lips.

Her favourite times were the evenings. The candle light basking the room in a comforting orange glow; sitting at the small table John had brought upstairs, with their empty dinner plates beside them as they played cards. Playful chatter and laughter erupted effortlessly from their mouths, remembrances of childhood and witty teasing. She loved to watch and listen to John talk, his eyes lighting up at certain subjects, perfectly comfortable in expressing himself - unlike when he was around others.

It had occurred to her however, that in the mornings at the mention of his sleep he'd look away - not in his usual way of disapproval or anger, but an awkward avoidance - and it didn't take much for her to guess why. On the third evening, a few drinks in her system, Alice finally let the words slip from her mouth. She'd been afraid to do so, to ruin the perfect bubble they'd been living in, but in a moment of confidence it felt right.

"What do you dream about, John?" She suddenly asked in the middle of a game, drawing his eyes from the cards and onto her curious gaze.

"What do you mean?" He was still smiling but it had weakened slightly.

"I mean.. you don't sleep well. And I think I know why."

There was a pause before he spoke again; getting the feeling that there was no escaping the truth - there never could be with Alice. He thought he'd fooled her but of course he hadn't, when had he ever?

"Of course you know, you know everything. Does that mean we have to talk about it?" He took a few sips from his drink before continuing, a chuckle lacing his tone. "You never really talk about any of your shit."

Alice raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk twinging at the corner of her lips as she spoke.

"You're right. We'll trade. You tell me about the nightmare that keeps you up and I'll tell you about mine."

He was taken aback, but only slightly, becoming used to the absurdity that would spring from her at the most unexpected moments.

"You've been sleeping like a log though and telling me about your dreams every morning." His tone was also laced with amusement.

"I haven't really been having them since we started seeing each other. Cheesy, I know." Her face was bashful for a second, looking down with a giggle before peering back up through her long lashes. "But they used to be bad. Especially before I escaped."

John took another few sips, his mind moving quickly as he processed every word and thought of an adequate response. An honest one.

"I can probably already imagine, it's not something I need to hear." He didn't let the taunting image he'd created of Jones dampen his mood, quickly shooing it away as he gazed somewhat cockily at Alice. "I wanna know something else though."

"What's that?"

"What's the cutting about?" He answered back immediately, moving his hands to hold her right arm, gently tracing his thumb over the heavily accumulated scar tissue. "And all the other shit? I don't get it. Why do you hurt yourself?"

Although the question surprised Alice, she didn't hesitate much in her answer - there was no reason to lie after all, he already basically knew all the worst things anyway.

"Because it feels good and it's instant and reliable. It's always been there for me. Sometimes it's just a distraction or adrenaline, sometimes it feels like I deserve it-"

"Why would you deserve that?"

"That's another question, it was one for one. You haven't answered mine yet, so now it's your turn."

"What! No. I won't interrupt again!" He protested.

"Sorry buster, it's your go." Alice giggled but her determined eyes let John know she wouldn't give this up.

"Okay fine." He cleared his throat before continuing, searching his brain for the words for a moment.

"It's usually the same one, I'm in the trenches." He was trying to stay nonchalant but the distant look that had appeared in his eyes made it evident that he could see the memory as clear as day.

"The mud is so thick I can hardly walk.. and all I can smell is blood. Stepping over the bodies of men I knew... And then I turn a corner and you're all there." He recounted with an airy tone.

The confident smile had faltered and his gaze drifted downwards to the table. He'd never said any of it out loud before and he felt an unfamiliar tight feeling in his chest. His hairs stood on end and his muscles tensed.

"Ada, Arthur, Mum, Pol, Finn, Karl, Tommy.. and now you. Piled up, bleeding, swollen and rotting like the men were."

Alice's smirk had also left her face, her hands switching position with John's and soothingly stroking his arm. She'd heard of war time trauma but had never really seen or heard it in person - practically living under a rock for the entirety of the war. John's pain made her think of her brothers, what they'd seen and endured before dying, and it made her feel uneasy - having pushed most grief away to the box in the back of her mind of things she didn't think of.

"And then... it doesn't matter." John cut himself off sharply, mentally entering the room again and looking back at Alice with clear eyes.

"I ain't shell shocked or nothing like that, not crazy." He quickly added with a nervous swallow.

"You think I'm judging if you're crazy?" The disbelief in Alice's voice followed by a giggle quickly dissolved the heavy mood that had formed, a chuckle even falling from John's lips.

"We both know where I would've ended up if it were anyone else that found me on the road that night." She confessed. "And even then I was slightly surprised that you didn't get me put away."

"Why would I do that? You're a bit nuts but you're just.. you. You're Alice." His tone was almost dreamy. "Far too beautiful to be hidden from the world; scars and all."

A silent moment of appreciation passed before Alice responded, wearily curious.

"Okay, my turn... Does it ever make you uncomfortable? Or maybe that's not the right word... Cautious?"

"What do you mean?"

"The way I am."

John took a sip from his glass, taking a second to look at her curious, unhurt eyes before answering.

"No. But it makes me scared."

The disappointment was immediately visible although she tried to hide it, her expression shrinking and grip on his arm loosening.

"Oh. I'm sorry." She scratched the back of her neck anxiously.

"Don't apologise. I just wish you could see you how I see you, then maybe you wouldn't want to hurt yourself."

Eye contact had ceased now, although John's sight remained glued to her face whilst she looked down at her lap.

"What do you see? Why would it make a difference?"

"That's another question. It's my turn now."

"Oh come on!" She suddenly looked up with a smile again, as if all the awkwardness had been removed from her in one swift, invisible action - lighting up the room with her pearly grin.

"You came up with the game!" John chuckled and then continued in a more somber tone "I want to know, why would you deserve that pain? I just don't get it, Alice."

She shot him a glare - half playfully - before answering, somewhat nonchalantly.

"Because I just do, John. Even before my husband, you remember, I was a fucking nut case. My whole life I've attracted trouble and now it's become me, or I've become it. I don't know. It's just the way it is."

Before he had time to respond she quickly added "Now tell me what you see. Why would it make a difference?"

An amused scoff left John's lips and he moved his arm to stroke her face, gently tracing his thumb across her bruised cheekbone. Despite her attempt to fluster him and keep the conversation on her terms, his mind collected and took note of every detail she spoke, attempting to settle the mysteries but still not understanding enough to.

"In my hand right now, I see the most gorgeous woman I've ever known. In this light, you look like a story mum used to tell; there were so many she'd tell me and Ada, princesses and all that bollocks." He laughed in happy remembrance. "But yeah right now, you look like those stories, how they made me feel; like the world could have something.. special in it." He shifted his touch to her lower face now, fingers brushing her lips. "In the morning, waking up next to you, I know the world has something special in it. You're like a fucking angel. It almost feels wrong to touch."

Alice couldn't quite believe the romances confidently falling from John's mouth, never knowing him to be so observant or descriptive.

"You're drunk." Was all she could justify but he immediately protested.

"Hardly. You're the drunk one. I'm surprised you ain't bloody wasted with that bottle you finished."

A short exchanged look followed by a minute of hard laughter. "Maybe I am a bit drunk." Alice thought to herself as she watched John clear the table and head downstairs.

"I'll do the washing up in the morning, just leave it in the sink." She yawned and went to stretch before the sharp pain of her ribs stopped her, a hiss leaving her lips that was heard from the stairs.

"And that's why I'll do it tomorrow." He spoke easily through the thin walls, his steps shaking the house.

Alice didn't bother to protest and stood up to get changed into pyjamas. John's baggy, white top and matching trousers from his teen years had proven to be extremely comfortable. It also made John feel a certain way, somewhat accomplished in his desire to have her belong to him, his clothes were a stand in ring. Maybe it was the white as well, it seemed to compliment her perfectly in every way.

He was back upstairs in a minute, unbuttoning his shirt to get into his own sleeping attire as Alice watched him with adoring eyes. She couldn't work out how it had happened but she was a woman obsessed. In the flickering orange light his toned, pale body resembled one of a marble statue - pale skin accompanied by rock hard muscle. From his dazzling blue eyes to the considerable sized bulge in his pants, her eyes were stuck to him like glue.

"You're so handsome." She smiled, giddy.

John chuckled slightly and looked at Alice, taking in the glow the fire gave her for another moment before extinguishing the flame, plunging the room in to sudden darkness. The faint glow of the moon peeking through gaps in the curtains was the only light afforded to the small space now but that didn't make it feel any less cosy. Instead, their combined body heat was like a flame of its own.

The next morning Alice awoke to an empty bed, momentarily confusing her until she heard clattering from downstairs and realised John was in the kitchen. A shushed cry of frustration followed the sound of something breaking and the woman giggled in entertainment at the realisation that he was obviously struggling with breakfast today.

With a big yawn followed by a pained hiss, Alice stretched out of bed and made her way downstairs. It was cold in the house, the air still defrosting, and she shivered walking across the creaking floorboards. John turned his head at the noise and was relieved to see her familiar brown eyes gazing back at his.

"I didn't wake you up did I?" His concerned tone was met with a tranquil chuckle from Alice as he put his back to the pan and held out his arms.

She quickly accepted the embrace, burying her face into his chest and taking a deep inhale of his scent.

"No. I did hear you struggling though."

John exhaled slightly in amusement, his eyes suddenly catching sight of the cold nipples pressing through his t-shirt.

"Someone's a bit chilly." He teased before moving a hand to gently cup one boob, his thumb circling her nipple in a way that instantly made Alice's legs squirm.

She had to keep her cool though. Despite the whole doting lovers thing, there were moments where she still remembered to keep her cool.

"Someone's overcooking the bacon." She cocked an eyebrow and he instantly turned around, muttering a quiet 'fuck' as he flung the bits of meat out of the pan.

"What are you doing down here anyway? You should be in bed." He questioned, his gaze now concentrated on buttering the bread in his hands.

Whilst he was at least partially distracted, Alice moved to the sink and began to scrub at the dishes from last night. She didn't like offering nothing to the house whilst he was kind enough to let her live there.

"I don't hurt too bad today. And I've been thinking we should probably go back to work soon." She answered nonchalantly.

John's tone was slightly more dreary, any mention of the outside world instantly adding to the drip that had been gradually decaying the foundations of his fantasy "You don't need to until you're healed. I'll make sure of that-"

"John, you know I hate being such a burden. And besides, I like work! I like being outside!" She protested, cutting him off.

For a second, John felt a pang of something bad in his gut. Was it jealousy? Or anxiety? Or guilt? He couldn't pin it exactly. But it made him look up from the sandwiches and back at Alice in a swift movement.

Upon seeing her confused expression those feelings mostly disappeared though, and he instead felt the previous bubbles of adoration rising from his stomach to his head. He put the butter knife down and stepped over to Alice, once again embracing her and pressing his lips to her head.

"You're so cute, you know that?" He smiled, inhaling her scent and moving one hand to pinch her bum, earning an amused gasp.

"Shut up. I'm serious." She retorted but couldn't hide her smile as she pulled away from him, determined to wash the last dish.

Once he noticed the sink full of soapy water, it only took a second for John's arms hands to automatically dive in there - splashing Alice from head to waist. Before she even had time to react he splashed her again and again, a low chuckle exiting his throat as a scream rose in hers.

It was cold and she was shocked, standing silent for a moment before letting the scream out and turning to John.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you!"

He was already running though, laughing as he went into the living room and hid behind the sofa, followed by Alice.

"You're a fucking prick!" She declared, lunging towards him but he quickly shot out the way. His laughing only got harder as she continuously failed to catch him.

Like a mad man, he darted around the house and jumped just out of reach every time Alice got close to victory. By the time they'd reached back to the kitchen, she was also laughing, her ribs and stomach hurting from it.

"Just come here! I'm gonna get you!"

She hadn't even realised that they were back at the sink, John took his chance and struck again - this time soaking both of them as he violently thrashed at the water. Another scream escaped her mouth but this one was quieter, less shocked.

"You're ridiculous. You know that John Shelby?"

He scoffed, his eyes slowly trickling down from her big eyes and rosy cheeks to the translucent material sticking to her chest.

"You recon?" He smirked "Tell me, what would you do if you got me?"

Alice quickly caught onto the direction of his gaze, defiantly crossing her arms and wrinkling her nose.

"I would send you to a circus to perform with other monkeys." She tutted before letting out a teeth chattering shiver "Now can I please have some dry clothes?"

"Can I not look at you for just a minute longer?"

She rolled her eyes and dropped her arms with a giggle, losing the internal fight of acting cool and accepting it. John's gaze made her stomach swirl and her cheeks pink; a feeling she hadn't enjoyed since childhood, a feeling that she'd spent years being scared of and then years after that forgetting. His eyes studied her, a million thoughts visibly racing behind them, whilst his lips pulled into a small smirk.

"It's actually quite mad to me just how beautiful you are you know?"

The words combined with his sudden touch at the base of her top sent butterflies in all directions.

"You're sweet." Her voice was barely above a whisper and John replied in a low tone.

"If you knew what I was thinking you wouldn't say that."

Alice's lips also pulled into a small smirk.

"Do you not think I'm thinking the same thing?"

"What's that?" John raised his eyebrow.

"What do you mean what's that? You know." Alice shot back, confused.

As if his face couldn't get any smugger, his smirk deepened and he shook his head with a swagger.

"I wanna hear you say it."

Alice almost gasped, wanting to mock the game he was playing, but she herself couldn't resist playing it and so replied, with an exasperated eye roll "John Shelby, if you wouldn't mind, could you fuck me before I freeze my tits off."

"That's more like it."