#finn shelby fics

[corrupte3d-mindz]

Sleepless Nights

Thomas Shelby x Pregnant Wife Reader

Summary: Thomas cares for his wife.

Wordcount: 2.3k

Warnings:

soft Thomas!, kissing, soft talk, lovely husband things.

Thomas prowls the grand corridors of Arrow House with a mixture of determination and unease. The mansion is a labyrinth of opulence, each corner dripping with the wealth he’s fought tooth and nail to secure. Yet, tonight, none of that matters. His mind is solely focused on one thing—finding his pregnant wife.

The house, with its vast rooms and endless hallways, feels both protective and suffocating. The heavy silence is broken only by the distant ticking of an antique clock, a stark reminder of time slipping away. Thomas’s polished shoes echo on the marble floors as he moves through the dimly lit spaces, his keen eyes scanning every shadow and crevice. The opulent decor, a testament to his success, now seems to mock him with its cold grandeur. He enters the library, where shelves upon shelves of leather-bound books line the walls, their spines gleaming in the faint light. The room smells of old paper and cigarette a sanctuary for his restless mind on many nights. But tonight, it offers no solace. He moves on, his pace quickening, his heartbeat mirroring his urgency.

As he strides through the dining hall, the long table stands like an island in the middle of the room, set for a feast that never seems to be eaten. The chandelier above it sparkles, casting prismatic reflections around the room, but Thomas’s eyes are unseeing. He is a man on a mission, driven by an anxiety he rarely allows himself to feel.

Finally, he reaches the living room, a vast space dominated by an enormous fireplace. The flames within flicker and dance, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. And there she is. His wife, his beacon in the storm of his life, sitting on the couch in an awkward yet somehow comfortable position. The sight of her instantly softens his stern expression, though worry still shadows his features. She’s nestled into the corner of the couch, her swollen belly making her position look ungainly to anyone else, but Thomas knows better. He sees the way her hand rests protectively over her stomach, the way her eyes are half-closed in a state of meditative calm. She’s wearing a loose, flowing nightgown that accentuates her maternal glow, the fabric cascading around her like a gentle waterfall.

“Love,” Thomas says softly, his voice a gravelly whisper that cuts through the silence. “Y’alright there?” His thick Birmingham accent adds a rough edge to the tender words, a contrast that defines him so well.

She looks up, her eyes meeting his with a tired but loving gaze. “Tommy,” she replies, a small smile curving her lips. “Just needed a moment. The baby’s been restless tonight.”

Thomas nods, understanding immediately. He crosses the room in a few strides, his presence a mix of power and protectiveness. He sits beside her, the couch dipping slightly under his weight. Gently, he places a hand over hers, feeling the life within her. It’s a moment of connection, grounding him in a way few things can.

“Been lookin’ for you,” he murmurs, his eyes scanning her face for any signs of discomfort. “Worried me, y’know.”

She chuckles softly, the sound like music to his ears. “I’m fine, Tommy. Just... needed to be alone for a bit.”

Thomas’s eyes soften further, the hard lines of his face easing as he takes in her serene expression. “Y’should rest more, love. Don’t want you overexertin’ y’self.” His voice is firm yet gentle, the protective husband surfacing through the tough gangster exterior.

She nods, leaning her head back against the couch and closing her eyes. “I know. It’s just... there’s so much to do. So much to prepare for.”

Thomas sighs, his hand moving to gently caress her cheek. “Leave it to me. I’ll handle everythin’. You just focus on our little one, yeah?”

He could see the strain in her eyes, the toll the pregnancy was taking on her. His heart ached for her, wishing he could take away her discomfort. "I wish I could do more," he said softly, his voice tinged with regret.

She smiled again, squeezing his hand. "You're here, Tommy. That's enough."

But it wasn't enough for him. He wanted to do more, to alleviate her pain in any way he could. His mind raced, trying to think of something, anything, that might help. Then she spoke again, her voice hesitant.

“Tommy, Ada said if it gets too heavy, you can lift my belly a bit with your hands. It might help.”

Tommy's brow furrowed as he processed her words. It was a simple gesture, yet one that could provide her with some relief. He looked into her eyes, seeing the vulnerability there, and he knew he had to try. "Alright, love," he said, his voice firm with determination. "Let's give it a go."

He moved closer, positioning himself in front of her. His hands, rough and calloused from years of hard work, gently interlaced under her belly. He could feel the warmth of her skin through the fabric of her dress, the gentle rise and fall of her breath. Slowly, he lifted, supporting the weight of their child. She let out a sigh of relief, her body relaxing into his touch.

"Better?" he asked, his voice soft.

She nodded, her eyes closing once more. "So much better. Thank you, Tommy."

He held her there, his strong arms supporting her, providing the comfort she so desperately needed. In that moment, all the worries and burdens of their world faded away, leaving only the two of them. For the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to simply be present, to cherish the moment.

"You're incredible, you know that?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Strongest woman I know."

She smiled, a soft blush creeping into her cheeks. "I have to be, married to you."

He chuckled, the sound low and rough. "Yeah, I suppose you do." His gaze softened as he looked at her, his eyes reflecting the depth of his feelings. "But I wouldn't change a thing. Not a bloody thing."

They stayed like that for a while, the silence between them comfortable and reassuring. Tommy's thoughts drifted to their future, to the life they were building together. It was a life filled with uncertainty and danger, but it was theirs. And as long as they had each other, he knew they could face anything. Eventually, he shifted, carefully lowering his hands and easing her back into a more comfortable position. He smiles, before cupping her face; his hands calloused from years of work, are surprisingly gentle as they cup her cheeks. He brushes a few stray strands of hair away from her face, tucking them behind her ear with a care that belies his hardened exterior. The feel of her skin under his fingertips is a reminder of all that he has fought for, and all that he stands to lose.

“Love,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble, thick with his Birmingham accent. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” The words are simple, but they carry a weight of sincerity that is unmistakable.

She looks up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of love and fatigue. Pregnancy has been both a blessing and a challenge, but in this moment, with Thomas so close, she feels a sense of peace. He leans in, closing the small distance between them, and presses his lips to hers. The kiss is intense, filled with a passion that speaks volumes of his devotion. It’s not just a kiss; it’s a promise, a silent vow that he will always be there for her.

His hands move from her face to her shoulders, sliding down her arms and resting on her swollen belly. He can feel the life growing inside her, their child, the future of the Shelby legacy. The thought fills him with a fierce protectiveness, a determination to shield them both from the dangers of his world. He pulls back slightly, resting his forehead against hers, his breath mingling with hers in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

“You’ve got to know,” he whispers, his voice husky with emotion, “I’d do anything for you. Anythin’ to keep you safe.” His words are punctuated by the gentle movement of his hands, caressing her belly as if to reassure both her and their child of his unwavering commitment.

Thomas stirred from sleep, his body instantly alert despite the lingering remnants of exhaustion. The warmth of the morning sun filtered through the heavy drapes, casting faint, golden lines across the bed where he lay. His hand reached instinctively to the other side, expecting to feel the familiar form of his wife beside him. The cool, empty sheets met his touch instead, sending a wave of unease through him. He sat up abruptly, the fine sheen of cold sweat on his forehead catching the light. He ran a hand through his dark hair, pushing it back from his face as his sharp blue eyes scanned the room.

The clock on the mantel ticked softly, marking the time as just past nine in the morning. Thomas swung his legs over the edge of the bed, the chill of the wooden floor against his bare feet grounding him. He rose to his full height, stretching out the tension in his muscles. He was dressed only in his boxers, the morning air cool against his skin. The bedroom was silent, save for the sounds that nature produced in the waking hours of the morning.

His mind raced through possibilities as he left the bedroom, each step measured and deliberate. The house was vast, and his wife could be anywhere, but his instinct told him to check the usual places first. The corridor outside their bedroom was dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn against the morning light. Thomas moved with purpose, his eyes darting to each doorway as he passed. He checked the nursery, but it was empty save for the soft glow of the morning sun filtering through the window. The sitting room was similarly deserted, the furniture untouched and the air still.

Thomas’s worry deepened with each empty room. He descended the grand staircase, his hand trailing along the polished banister. The ground floor was no different – the study, the drawing room, all empty. He paused at the doorway to the dining room, listening intently. The faintest clink of cutlery reached his ears, a sound so subtle it could easily have been missed. Relief washed over him, but he kept his composure as he moved toward the kitchen, the source of the noise.

The kitchen was a contrast to the rest of the house – warm, filled with the rich aroma of freshly baked bread and other culinary delights. The sight that greeted Thomas made him pause in the doorway. His wife was at the counter, her back to him, completely absorbed in her task. She was preparing her favorite pregnancy craving, a look of contentment on her face as she worked. Her hair was loosely tied back, and she had her loose, flowing nightgown, made of soft, breathable fabric, was adorned with delicate lace and ribbon trims. He had it made especially for her.

A soft chuckle escaped Thomas’s lips, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Hungry, eh? For whatever you're eatin' at what... nine in the mornin'..." His voice was low, the thick Birmingham accent adding a familiar roughness to his words.

She turns to him, a small smile playing on her lips. Her eyes are bright, despite the early hour, and there's a certain glow about her that he finds both endearing and reassuring. "Well... I originally woke up because I had to throw up... but then it wore off and I just sat there for a bit before I actually did throw up..." she explains, her voice trailing off as she takes another bite.

He crosses the room to her, his worry giving way to a tender affection. He reaches out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch gentle and careful. "You alright now?" he asks, his voice softening. "You and the little one?"

She nods, placing the bowl on the counter. "Yes, we're fine. Just one of those mornings."

Thomas wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her close. He can feel the slight swell of her belly against his skin, a constant reminder of the new life growing inside her. "You should've woken me," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She laughs softly, resting her head against his chest. "You need your rest too, Tommy. Besides, it’s nothing I can’t handle."

He holds her for a moment longer, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment. The kitchen, with its warm morning light and the comforting presence of his wife, feels like a sanctuary. A stark contrast to the chaos and violence that often defines his life outside these walls. He pulls back slightly, looking down at her with a mixture of love and concern. "If you need anythin', you come get me. Don’t try to be too strong on your own."

She nods, understanding the depth of his worry. "I will, I promise."

They both stood there looking at each other.

"Any plans for today?" he asks, breaking the comfortable silence.

She looks up at him, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I was thinking of organizing the nursery a bit more. And maybe take a walk in the garden if the weather holds."

He nods, appreciating her simple plans. "Sounds good. I’ve got a meeting later, but I’ll be back by lunch. We can go for that walk together."

She smiles, the idea pleasing her. "I’d like that."

Author’s Notes:

Credit for the smol sparkle divider: CafeKitsune

[dreamerschroniclesofstories]

I love your work I got a request for Tommy Shelby

So you are tommy daughter or the youngest Shelby sister and u are 2 years old

And Arthur or John or Finn is looking after u and u get sick and tommy’s not home at the moment so she just cries until he gets home no matter how hard the others try to console her and then when he gets home and he holds you stop crying and fell asleep hope that make sense

Hey love! Of course i can do this request for you!

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR TRANSLATION OR POSTING ON A DIFFERENT SITE.

Summary: request above.

{Y/N}: Your name.

Word count: 1,023.

Once Finn was born, the Shelby clan felt like the family was complete, they hoped their parents would stop having children since they were barely looked after by them.

However, just under two years after Finn Shelby was born, [Y/N] Shelby entered the world. The second daughter of Arthur Shelby and youngest sister to the Shelby brothers.

Since she was born, she had a handful of health issues, ranging from constant illnesses to developmental delays. This caused her to look younger then she is and resulted in Polly becoming very cautious of going outside with the young girl. When [Y/N} was taken outside, Tommy and Polly would make sure she had on at least three layers.

However, the winter had been brutal on the young girls body, it had snowed for the first time in ten years in Birmingham, and like any other child {Y/N} wanted to go outside and play with the the playful swirling snowflakes coming down from the sky. Polly knew it wasn't safe but the young girl was growing and seeing snow in Birmingham was a rare occasion. She let {Y/N] go outside for ten minutes.

Two days later, Polly had regretted that decision. Polly had woken up that morning expecting the young girl to be awake in her bed waiting for her aunt to take her downstairs to make her breakfast. Instead Polly had found her niece still asleep curled up in her bed, from where Polly was standing she was able to see {Y/N]'s skin glistening with sweat.

The middle aged woman immediately walks away from the child's room, going to Tommy's room and knocks on loudly, knowing her nephew would be awake, Polly opens the door " get dressed and go to the doctor down the road" she demands.

Tommy stood up quickly, puling on a pair of his tailored trousers then followed by putting on a shirt " {Y/N] again?" he asks, he knew it was for his sister but asked anyway.

" i don't know whats wrong with her yet" Polly uttered, her voice full of stress and panic.

Polly rushes back over to her nieces room, walking over to the young girls bed, wrapping her arms around the fragile body of her ill riddled body of the youngest Shelby.

{Y/N} small mouse like voice breaks out from her throat "pol" she whispers, her voice cracking, squirming slightly. The young girl was uncomfortable, the warmth from her fever coming through in bursts, her night clothes soaked in her own sweat.

The sound of Tommy leaving his room followed by the sound of the front door opening and close less then a minute later reassured Polly that help would soon be on the way.

Three hours later.

It had been hours since Tommy had left the house, he had not come back. {Y/N]'s fever had gotten worse as the hours past, Polly had given her several cold water baths to try and bring her fever down but nothing was helping.

The sickly young girl had become distressed, her wailing voice filed the small Shelby home. Her brothers and aunt doing everything they could think of to comfort her.

" Don't hold her like that Finn, that will just make her more upset" the eldest Shelby brother barked at his youngest brother.

Finn was holding his sister under armpits and arms length away from him. " shes contagious"

Arthur grumbles and stands up from the dinning room table, stalking towards his siblings, taking his sister gently from the arms of his brother. " You're a Shelby Finn, you've got other things you should be more scared of" Arthur points out.

The eldest Shelby, holds his sister, his hand on the bottom of her back whilst his other arm sat under her legs to support her weight, The young girl lays her head on her brothers shoulder hiccuping as she cries.

" where is bloody Tommy" Arthur grumbles, looking towards Polly as she walks out of the kitchen holding a cloth. The older woman walks over to Arthur, gently wiping the cold cloth against the forehead of the sickly looking child.

" He's coming Arthur, doctor is probably busy with other children sick from this weather"

" Other children aren't {Y/N} pol, she could di--" Polly quickly interrupts Arthur.

" don't be ridiculous Arthur" Polly hissed.

However, Arthur wasn't wrong and Polly knew this, her niece was already weak from birth and the doctor had warned the family that {Y/N} could die from becoming ill, its just the matter of what will kill her and when.

Luckily, the sound of the front door opening and shutting filled the chaotic family home of the Shelby's. Footsteps clunking towards the room filled with hiccups, coughs and wailing.

The sight of Tommy Shelby was a relief for Polly but when she didn't see the doctor her stress levels turned up a notch. Tommy takes his cap off followed by his jacket.

Tommy walks over to his older brother, Arthur transferring his sister over to him " the doctor will come in a few hours, he is full today with other patients" Tommy explains.

Polly runs her slender fingers over her eyebrows, sighing " her fever isn't breaking Tommy, shes making herself worse by crying" his aunt vents.

The sight of the most feared Shelby rocking his youngest sister as she holds one of his fingers wasn't a rare sight for the family, since {Y/N} was born it was clear her and Tommy had bonded incredibly quick and nothing could break that bond.

The house slowly began to become quiet, the occasional hiccup and cough appeared, Tommy sits on the couch, his sister slowly closing her eyes, her body relaxing for the first time since the morning.

Polly laughs and shakes her head, putting her hands on her hips. " i should have known" she smiles.

Finn frowns and looks towards Polly " known what?" he asks, oblivious.

Polly grabs a cigarette from her metal case and uses a match to light it, then sits down at the dinning room table for the first time since waking up.

" All she wanted was her Thomas".

A/N: Hello again, i apologise for the long wait for this, life has been hectic and i had no time to post anything but i finally have time to post on here! i appreciate all the Reposts, Likes and Comments.

[roguerogerss]

Show You How Much I Love You

Pairing: Michael Gray x Reader

W/C: 3.5k

Warnings: SMUT!!, the second half is just sex, bit of a praise kink, talk of injuries and blood (not related to the smut!)

Description: After Michael gets shot, you’ve been visiting him in the hospital every day. He has a realisation on his last day there, and when you get home, he shows you how much he’s missed you.

(took a lil break from writing tommy all the time - he will be back! promise! - and did a lil spin for michael. i’ve been OBSESSED with both of them recently. so proud of the smut in this bc it’s literally only my second full on smut!!! let me know what u think babes! b back with tommy shtuff sooooon)

—

You hated the hospital. The building always smelled of antiseptic, slightly bitter, but with the added scent of artificial fragrance contained in soaps and cleaning products. And what was worse, the smell would linger on your clothes and in your hair, even hours after you'd left, and you'd have to bathe after every time you visited, to avoid going to bed smelling like death.

"Morning, Miss L/N." The nurses had gotten to know you over the last five weeks, and they'd always greet you when you came to visit. As much as you hated the hospital, and it's smell, the nurses made your visits very slightly more bareable.

"Good morning, Margaret." You sighed, smoothing your hair down and fixing the fur collar of your coat. "How is he, today?"

"He's had some great news today, ma'am. I think you'll be delighted." Margaret smoothed a hand over your back and then hurried off, the nurses were always on the run. You wondered what news your boyfriend could possibly have gotten that would've delighted you, considering all you'd had the past five weeks was more death, upset, and terrible news.

You climbed the stairs, still fussing over your hair, and your coat, and pulling out a small, pocket mirror to fix your lipstick in. You always ended up going to the hospital dressed like a model, because Michael had told you the first time that seeing you all dressed up had been the only thing he was looking forward to.

You plucked a cigarette from your pocket, and balanced it between your lips as you reached his room, "Miss L/N! No smoking, please! It's not allowed.", You waved the nurse off.

You took a slow drag from your cigarette, filling your lungs, and then pushed the door to Michael's room open. You beamed when you saw him, standing by his bed, something he hadn't done for the entirety of his time in recovery.

He held his arms out when he saw your smile, smiling himself, as though he was presenting a gift to you. "Well?"

"Oh my God, Michael!" You ran for him, giggling as you did, and you were met with a grunt when you dived into his arms. Michael stumbled backwards slightly as he wrapped his arms around you, before regaining his balance. His chest stung in all the places he'd been shot, but he didn't care too much. You looked so happy, something you hadn't been since finding out about the mafia, and he wasn't going to take that away from you.

"Jesus." He laughed at your excitement, "I'm still sore, sweetheart."

"Sorry, I'm sorry, I'm just...You look so much better."

"I feel better. They've been doing physical therapy the past few days, getting me up on my feet, finally got up on my own today."

"Margaret told me you'd had good news, was it this?"

"This, and," He reached behind him and produced a piece of paper from the bedside cabinet. The words "Discharge Notice" were printed in black at the top of the page. "This."

You gasped, "You're getting out? Today?"

"Yes." He nodded, and you clasped a hand over your mouth, ready to squeal with excitement. Michael interrupted, grasping your wrist between his fingers, "But, love, I'd have to stay with you, so it's only if you'll have me. If it'll be too much of a bother, I can stay here-"

"Michael, don't be daft." You moved your hand from your mouth, to press each palm to Michael's cheeks. "Of course I'll have you. It'd be my pleasure."

He sighed and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close, so that your noses were touching. "Are you sure? It's not going to be pretty for the first couple of weeks. Changing bandages, cleaning bullet holes-"

"Michael." You interrupted him quickly, thumb swiping over a small, stitched scar on his cheek. "Of course I'm sure. I mean, it was only a matter of time before we moved in together, anyway, wasn't it? I suppose, it's not under the circumstances we'd like it to have been, but I want to do it."

A comfortable silence fell on the room, Michael was simply smiling, green eyes exploring yours. You ran your fingers over the new scars on his face, and found yourself frowning when you reached a particularly deep one, straight through his eyebrow. He breathed out, "I love you, so much."

You'd never heard anyone say anything with such passion, but Michael had never meant something more in his life. Tommy always spoke about feeling like you'd been pardoned by God when you should've died, and everything else being extra, borrowed time. He didn't think he could live another day without helping you to feel exactly how much you meant to him.

"I love you too, Michael." He was hardly listening to you, just thinking about things he needed to say to you.

"More than anything, you know that, don't you?" He continued. You looked at him, eyes full of concern.

"What's going on?" You were convinced there was something really wrong that he wasn't telling you about.

"Nothing's going on, my love." Michael smoothed your hair down comfortingly, chewing on the side of his lip while he thought about what to say next. "I nearly died, Y/N. I should've died, John did, and he didn't get to tell Esmé that he loved her again. I need you to know what you mean to me. Need you to know how much I love you."

He let his forehead fall against yours, sighed, and squeezed his eyes shut. Tears were threatening to fall, and he knew you'd get upset if you saw him cry. But you'd already sensed he was unsettled, and you pressed your lips to his cheek, and then to his nose, and then to his lips, he loved how loving you were.

"I'm going to show you how much I love you, how much you mean to me. As soon as I can, I'll help you around the house, I'll do everything I can for you." He clasped his hands together at the back of your neck, holding you far enough away that he could really look at you, breaths slightly shaky. "And when I'm better, really better, I mean, I want to marry you."

Your eyes widened, you supposed you might've looked scared to anyone who didn't know you too well. "Michael-"

"I'm serious. If I asked you, right now, to be my wife-"

You shook your head, a grin making it's way onto your face now. "Michael-"

"Will you marry me?" He sounded so serious. You'd spoken about getting married before, and you'd both meant what you'd said, but you hadn't expected he'd ask you so soon. You'd been together just over a year, but you were both still young, and nearly four months of your relationship had just been casual nights together.

"Are you proposing to me?" You were really smiling now. As much as you were young, and as much as you hadn't quite expected this, you were excited. Of course you wanted to marry Michael.

"If that's what you want this to be." He was smiling down at you, grasping both of your hands in his own. He’d have gotten down on one knee if he could’ve, and he felt a slight pang of guilt knowing this wasn’t quite the proposal you’d probably hoped for.

But you didn’t care. Growing up, you’d wanted a big wedding, with a big proposal beforehand, but having someone who you loved as much as you loved Michael, he could’ve proposed to you at a funeral and you’d have said yes. “Well, if that's what's happening, then yes."

"You'll marry me?" The surprise in his voice was completely unmasked. He’d had no idea you’d actually say yes.

"Yes. Yes, Michael, I'll marry you." You felt yourself doing a little jump up and down out of excitement.

"Are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious!"

Michael arms were around your waist, now, picking you up from the ground and kissing you, completely ignoring the burn in his chest. Your lips always felt made for eachother when he kissed you, and this time was no different, if not even better. You hadn’t been kissing him half as much as you normally would, what with everything going on, and it almost felt desperate, needy.

"Tomorrow, I'll go out, and I'll buy you a ring, alright? Tommy owes me money, I'll use that to buy you the biggest one I can find." You laughed at Michael's excitement. "But this is official. We're engaged, love."

"We're engaged." You repeated, tears in your eyes, and let Michael take your face in his hands and kiss you again. You couldn't quite believe what had just happened - truth be told, neither could Michael - and you certainly didn't ever expect it to happen in a hospital room, but you were excited nonetheless.

"Come on, I've got all of my things packed, let's go home."

-

As soon as you stepped through the door to your apartment, you were apologising to Michael for the "state of the place". You weren't entirely used to having him round, and so felt you had to explain the little messes that you'd often leave laying around.

"Sorry, it's a bit of a mess. I've not been home too often. And it's not as big as yours, I know-"

Michael stopped you before you rambled on about how the fireplace wasn't lit, and you hadn't washed your dishes from that morning, and how you'd left all of your makeup out on the bathroom vanity because you hadn't time to put it away.

"Stop it." He soothed you, pressing a finger to your lips and looking around at your ground floor flat. It certainly wasn't much, but he actually liked your house better than his own. It was smaller, and therefore cozier, and he found the looks he got from neighbours the morning after you'd slept together funny, knowing they'd heard you screaming his name the night before. "It's perfect."

You smiled, half-heartedly, and gestured to the living room doorway, "Here, you can lay down on the sofa, and I can make some lunch. What would you like? Oh, and when do I have to change your bandages, do you remember?" You swung open the kitchen cabinet, searching through the groceries you'd bought the day before. "I'm not sure what I could make. I can go to the store, I think it should still be open-"

"Love, stop." Michael stepped closer to you, hands settling on each of your shoulders. "Just take a minute, calm down, we've got time."

"I know. I know, I just-"

"Don't." He let a hand slip down your arm and into your own, "You've said yes to marrying me today, I'm very much happy dealing with your unwashed dishes, and you can make me lunch any time, now, okay? I'm here to stay."

"Come on, fiancé." Michael grinned at you. "Lay with me, please? Missed you."

You sighed, and turned to close the cabinet door behind you. You were quick to stress yourself out, and normally you'd argue that you couldn't just lay down and forget about the things you needed to do, but you'd missed him too. "Okay."

Michael led you down the hallway and into your bedroom, he'd been here before, but you'd spend most of your time together at his house or at the office, so it felt strange having him in your bedroom. He was one to make himself at home, and today was no different. As soon as he reached your bed, the shirt that he was wearing was unbuttoned and on the floor, and he was sprawled out on top of the sheets, gesturing for you to join him.

You tried to lay down next to him, but he had other plans, hands reaching out to grip your hips and pull you on top of him, one knee on either side of his torso. "Michael!" You giggled.

"Oh, come on. I haven't had any time alone with you in over a month." His hands started to make their way under your dress, and you almost let him, until you snapped back to reality and noticed the bandage wrapped around his body.

"I know." You wanted to, you really wanted to, but you found yourself smacking his hand away before he was able to get past your thigh. "But you're still recovering."

"I'm fit enough." He raised an eyebrow at you, and you were certainly considering it. He could definitely be very convincing, when he wanted to.

"Are you sure?" You stuck your bottom lip out, pouting at him.

"I'm sure, baby." His hands found their way to your waist, and he was looking up at you with what you could only describe as hunger in his eyes, jaw clenched. He made it so hard for you to say no. "Come on, let me prove it to you. Let me show you how much I love you.”

"I don't know, Michael-"

"Please, sweetheart." He interrupted you, "Missed your body. Been so desperate for you."

Hearing him say he was desperate for you had a knot growing in your stomach. You sighed, weighing up the options you had, but ultimately deciding that you'd both be unable to think about anything else if you didn't have sex.

"Okay. Alright, but if you feel like you need to stop, you stop. Okay?"

"I will. Thank you, darling." You could feel him hardening through his trousers, and it had you biting down hard on your lips, having been waiting for this moment to come since he could sit up straight. He'd teased you while in the hospital, talked dirty, touched you every now and again, but it was hard to find a time when a nurse wasn't going to walk in and scold him for being too active, and Polly wasn't going to come in for a visit. "Now, come here."

He pushed himself up, back against the headboard, and dipped his head to connect your lips. It was fast, rough, a clash of teeth and tongue and lips, he'd missed you, and you were making it clear that you'd thought about him for the entire time he'd been in the hospital.

His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer so that you were chest to chest. He could feel his wounds burning when your torso collided with his, but the taste of your lips on his and the feeling of having you so close again quickly dissolved any discomfort he felt.

He was so needy for you, hips bucking upwards to meet yours, hands sliding down to grip your hips, you thought it was the hottest you'd ever seen him. "Fuck, Michael." You gasped out as his lips found your neck, head falling back.

He groaned at the sound of you moaning for him, he'd been waiting to touch you for so long. "Need you, pretty girl. We've got plenty of time for other things later, but I need to be inside you right now."

You didn't need to say another word, you simply nodded and helped him to unbuckle his belt while you hiked your dress up above your waist. His fingers grazed over your lingerie, and you mewled, the feeling almost too much. "Jesus, baby, you're so wet already. Haven't even done anything yet."

"Missed you so much, Michael." You breathed out, an answer to his statement, and simply a statement in itself.

"Missed you too, princess." You loved when he called you pet names.

You watched as he freed himself from his underwear, and his cock sprung up, hard and ready for you. "You're hard already." You mocked his words, and he laughed.

Neither of you wasted any time with foreplay, your panties were ripped off and on the floor with one flick of Michael's wrist, and he was lifting you off of him slightly, and guiding you back down onto his cock.

The feeling of him sliding into you again was euphoric for both of you. You hadn't had sex in more than a month, as opposed to usually being borderline sex addicts, and you knew you wouldn't last long.

You both let out pornographic moans as he bottomed out, Michael's face said it all. His mouth hung open, eyebrows knitted together, eyes wide, you were so tight, he could've came at the feeling of his cock stretching you out.

"Fuck, not gonna last long, honey." His forehead fell against yours and he screwed his eyes shut, just revelling in how good you felt around him. "Are you alright?" He asked, hand holding and stroking your waist lovingly. He was big, and you were so used to him before that you hardly needed any time to adjust, but with being away from eachother for so long, he was almost too much to handle.

"I'm okay. Give me a second. Feel so full." You were breathing heavily, shifting around. It wasn't uncomfortable as such, just a lot to take.

Michael ran his fingers through your hair, soothing you and pressing kisses to your forehead. "Taking me so well, baby. Just take your time."

"Fuck," You moaned, you loved when he was sweet to you in bed. You'd told him months ago that you thought it might've been your biggest turn on. "You can move."

Michael looked up at you, just for an extra check that you were truly alright, and, upon finding no sign that you weren't, bucked his hips up to meet yours. You almost screamed, he knew exactly what spots to hit, and he did every time without fail.

You bounced on him, his hands helping you, lifting you off of him and bringing you straight back down at new angles every time. "You feel so good, Mike."

"Fuck, good girl. That's a good girl." Michael let his forehead drop onto your collarbone, watching your tits bounce up and down. You were so beautiful, he often wondered how he'd gotten so lucky. "Tell me how good I'm making you feel."

"So, so good. Missed your cock so much. Love it so much." Your words were slightly slurred, eyes starting to droop. He loved watching you, how much of a mess you'd get, just from riding his cock.

His hands found your tits, massaging them and twisting your nipples, which always had you screaming for him, and today was no different. "Feel good?"

"Feels fucking amazing." He thrust into you at just the right angle, which had you gasping and digging your nails into his back, leaving little red half moons on his shoulder blades. "Oh, right there, Mike.”

"Shit, baby, are you close?" You were clenching around him so tightly, "Can feel it, you're close."

"I'm so close." You moaned, you were certain your upstairs neighbours would hear you, the walls and ceilings were thin, and Michael was making you yell out in pleasure.

"Me too. Almost there, sweetheart. Hang on for me." He increased his speed, making it even harder for you to hold on, and making your moans fall from your lips even louder than before.

"I don't think I can, Mike." Your legs were shaking like crazy, and you could feel his dick tensing inside of you. You needed to come so badly.

"I said hold on. You can hold it." His face was stern as he said it, dominant side coming out as he grabbed your hips and slammed you down onto him, bucking his hips at the same time. He was going to make this so good for you.

"Fuck, Michael, please." You threw your head back. You felt his cock twitch, and a loud moan come from him, he was going to come.

"Alright, baby, come. Come with me."

Your throat was hoarse from moaning as loudly as you were, but it didn't stop you from screaming his name as your walls tightened around him and you came undone. The feeling of his cum painting your insides never got old, always made you feel like you could go at least another few rounds.

"Oh my God." You panted, collapsing onto his chest as he lay back on the bed. You both lay there, breathing heavily, sweaty messes, for a few minutes. You didn't think you could move very far, your legs were shaking against him.

"Jesus, have I missed this." Michael kissed the top of your head through quick, harsh breaths.

"I've missed this so much." You agreed, heart pounding.

You lifted your head, just enough to see that there were a few speckles of blood seeping through the bandage that was wrapped around his torso. "You're bleeding, baby. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." He nodded, and reached over to your bedside cabinet to grab the small alarm clock that sat there. It read two o’clock. Michael grinned at you.

"Time to change the bandages."

[wonderlanddreamer]

Daddy Dearest.

[1919] Watery Lane, Birmingham

The unexpected return of their estranged father ignites tension within the Shelby household, particularly for Lydia, who faces the daunting presence of a man she's never known. [Season 1 - Episode 5]

[Part of The Lydia Saga]

Lydia was acutely aware of the exact moment the atmosphere in the room shifted. She had been sitting quietly at the worn kitchen table, her small hands diligently moving a pencil across a piece of paper as she sketched. Polly, always bustling with energy, was nearby, her attention focused on organising the cluttered cupboards. The comforting aroma of freshly baked cookies lingered in the air, a sweet reminder of the treat Polly had just handed her. Lydia savoured the last crumb, a smile playing on her lips.

The tranquillity was abruptly interrupted by the creaking of the heavy front door as it swung open. It closed with a resounding thud, echoing throughout the room and causing Lydia to pause, her pencil hovering above the paper. Her senses heightened, she listened intently as three or four sets of footsteps echoed down the hallway. The first she immediately recognised as Arthur's; his steps were heavy and purposeful, a sound she had become accustomed to over the years. But the second set of footsteps was different— heavier, unfamiliar, and carrying an air of uncertainty that piqued her curiosity.

The silence of the room was gradually filled with the sound of muttering voices as the footsteps grew louder, approaching the kitchen. Lydia could hear John, his voice laced with irritation, and then immediately Arthur trying to hush him. She counted the sounds: four sets of footsteps, Arthur, John, Finn and someone unfamiliar.

As they all piled into the kitchen, a moment of silence enveloped the room, a rare pause in the usually bustling Shelby household.

Arthur didn’t look at her. He didn’t look at anyone. He just stood there, a little straighter than normal, but his shoulders looked heavy, like he was carrying the weight of the world on them. And maybe he was. Lydia knew Arthur carried a lot. He carried his anger, his temper, sometimes even his sadness, all bundled up tight inside him like a fist.

Beside him was a man she didn't know. Tall, broad, his face etched with lines like a roadmap, and his eyes… his eyes were dark and shadowed.  They held a hardness she didn't understand. This man was a stranger; unlike the familiar faces of her brothers and Polly, this man carried an aura of something unknown, something unsettling that made the little girl instinctively wary. 

Polly’s reaction was immediate. She tensed visibly upon laying eyes on the man, her expression transforming into one of exasperation as she slammed shut the cupboard doors and set both hands on her hips. With a dramatic roll of her eyes, she addressed him directly as he took a seat at the table beside Lydia. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?” she demanded, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

The man clicked his tongue, his gaze shifting from one family member to the next, finally settling on Lydia. His eyes lingered on her, causing her to instinctively shrink back. There was something unsettling about the way he looked at her, as if he recognized her from a distant, almost forgotten memory. Yet, Lydia couldn't recall ever meeting him. Her eyes darted to John, who was leaning against the sideboard. He was chewing furiously on a toothpick, his hands buried deep in his pockets, his entire posture radiating tension.

“Can’t a father visit his children?” the man drawled, turning to ruffle Finn’s hair affectionately. Finn responded with a smile, smoothing his hair down with his hands. John gave Finn a light tap on the shoulder, motioning to the spot beside him with a casual tip of his head. Finn obediently moved to his brother's side.

Polly scoffed, her voice dripping with incredulity as she muttered under her breath, “Father…”

Lydia was struggling to process his words. Her pencil lay discarded next to her drawing, and her wide blue eyes were fixed on the man sitting beside her. She had never met her father; he was a figure shrouded in mystery and rarely mentioned. Surely this couldn't be him—the man whose presence was causing such discomfort in what was usually a warm and welcoming room. Yet, he smiled at her.

“My, my, little lady. How you’ve grown,” he said fondly, reaching out to gently brush away some crumbs from the corner of her mouth. Lydia was unaware of how John stood a little taller when his father reached a hand towards her, like a lion ready to pounce to protect its cub from any potential threat. Arthur noticed, though, and it deepened his frown. He moved to stand behind Lydia, placing his hands reassuringly on her small shoulders, leaning over the back of her chair.

“You remember Dad, don’t ya Lyds?” Arthur encouraged gently. Although he knew her answer would be no, he hoped his words might ease the anxiety that was evident in his little sister.

“How would she remember someone who’s never even bothered to make himself known?” Polly snapped back, her voice sharp and filled with a protective anger.

The warmth seemed to vanish from the stranger's eyes as his smile faded, leaving a colder demeanour in its wake. Lydia felt an urge to move, to stand by John and Finn's side, but she found herself trapped in her seat, unwillingly captivated by the man beside her. The comforting presence of Arthur nearby gave her some solace, and she adjusted herself on the chair, feeling his hands press a little more reassuringly on her shoulders.

“Ya must be hungry, Dad. Lemme fix ya something,” Arthur offered, moving towards the cupboards with a feigned casualness. Lydia watched him with curiosity, she’d never even seen Arthur so much as butter a slice of bread.

“Aye, son. That would be much appreciated,” the man replied, leaning back in his chair as though he were settling into a familiar place.

“Don’t get comfortable,” Polly sighed, moving completely out of Arthur’s way, making it known that she would not be assisting him.

Ignoring Polly's pointed remark, he leaned towards Lydia, extending a hand as if for her to take. “Why don’t ya come and give ye old man a hug, eh Lydia?”

Lydia hesitated, not wanting to embrace him but equally reluctant to appear impolite. She glanced at John, silently seeking his guidance. His subtle shake of the head was enough to reassure her that she didn't have to do anything she was uncomfortable with. She shook her head gently and shuffled slightly away from him. “No, thank you,” she replied quietly.

“Ah, don’t be like that, darlin’. Come, Daddy wants to get a good look at ya,” he insisted, reaching further to take her hand. Lydia frowned, sensing the unease that filled the room. Everyone seemed on the verge of intervening, even Finn, but it was John who broke the silence.

“She said no,” John declared firmly, his hand leaving his pocket to extend towards Lydia protectively. “Lyds, c’mere.”

Lydia scrambled off her chair and made her way over to John, instinctively positioning herself slightly behind his leg. His hand settled reassuringly on her shoulder, a familiar gesture that eased the tension within her. Despite the comfort and security John provided, her gaze remained fixed on the stranger who had intruded into their home, claiming to be her father. Although John’s warmth provided a comforting presence, Lydia felt a longing for Tommy, his absence leaving a void which signified how much she relied on him in times like these.

The sudden clatter of a plate against the table pulled Lydia from her tangled thoughts as Arthur placed a sandwich in front of their father. The man looked up with a smile, acknowledging Arthur's effort. “Thank ye, you’re a good boy,” he said, his voice dripping with a kind of approval that seemed out of place.

Arthur took a seat across from their father, and the older man bowed his head and joined his hands in a gesture of prayer. “Bless you, Father, for these bounties we are about to receive…” he began, his voice steady and measured.

Polly, unable to hold back any longer, released a long, exasperated sigh. Her hand moved to her temple, rubbing it in frustration. “Jesus Christ…” she muttered under her breath.

“Please woman,” the man interrupted, turning to Polly with a judgmental gaze, “Not in vain.”

Polly's eyes snapped to him, her patience wearing thin. “Finish your sandwich and sling your hook,” she retorted sharply.

Lydia's eyes widened at Polly’s abruptness. It was rare to hear her Aunt speak so directly and harshly to anyone, and it only reinforced Lydia's instinct not to trust this man. Her 'father' casually picked up a knife from the table, waving it carelessly as he spoke.

“Pollyanna, I am a guest of the head of this family,” he declared smugly, gesturing towards Arthur, who sat a little straighter, clearly taking the words to heart. “So why don’t you maybe, tend to your mangle or your scuttle.”

John didn't miss a beat, his voice cutting through the tension with quiet authority. “The head of the family ain’t here,” he corrected.

Lydia felt a wave of relief at John's firm words, though the absence of Tommy's steadying presence was palpable. At the table, Arthur shifted uneasily under the scathing look from their father, who seemed to silently demand an explanation for why his eldest son and namesake was not recognized as the head of the family. Lydia hated seeing Arthur so skittish, struggling to answer the unspoken question.

“Tommy, um, he sometimes helps me with, uh, with business, Dad,” Arthur stammered, trying to justify the unspoken hierarchy.

Lydia exchanged a glance with Finn, both of them sharing the same discomfort. Their father looked sceptical, but before he could respond, the sound of the back door opening and closing drew everyone's attention. Tommy entered the room, his presence commanding immediate attention as he rounded the corner and took in the scene before him.

“Aye, well. Speak of the devil,” their father said as he stood to greet Tommy, “How are ya, son?”

Tommy barely acknowledged him, his eyes scanning the room, silently assessing each member of his family. When his gaze settled on Lydia, he seemed to take in everything—the way she stood behind John for protection, the worry etched on her face, and the silent plea for safety from the stranger in their midst. This sight ignited a fierce protective instinct within Tommy, prompting him to turn to their father with a subtle shake of his head, his voice calm yet carrying undeniable authority.

“Get out,” he ordered, leaving no room for negotiation. He nodded towards the door, making his intentions clear.

Seemingly unfazed, the man stretched out his arms, feigning innocence. “Come on, son. I’m a changed man.”

Tommy's voice remained steady, but the gravity of his words was unmistakable. “This family needed you six years ago, when you walked out on it. Not now. Get out of this house.”

Arthur, still seated, averted his eyes to the floor, caught in a struggle between loyalty to his brother and a longing for his father. “Tommy, he’s different…”

“You shut up,” Tommy commanded, and Arthur fell silent, his conflict unresolved.

Feeling the tension, Lydia moved a little more behind John. She hated it when her brothers argued. Sensing her discomfort, John leaned down and wrapped an arm around Lydia’s knees, effortlessly lifting her to his side. She melted against him, resting her head on his shoulder, her eyes fixed on Tommy, drawing comfort from his presence.

“It’s alright, son,” their father said to Arthur, sensing the internal conflict and the words left unspoken. He knew Arthur didn’t want to undermine Tommy, and so he added, “Arthur Shelby never stays where he’s not welcome,”.

The unwelcome guest rose from his seat, collecting his belongings and draping his coat over his arm. He cast a glance at Tommy, who stood firm and unyielding, his gaze locked on his father, signalling that his departure was expected. Despite the tension, the man couldn’t help but feel a grudging admiration for his son’s assertiveness. “Quite somethin’ you’ve become,” he remarked with a hint of approval.

As he turned to Lydia, settled in John's arms, he reached out to her. But John instinctively shifted, turning away to keep Lydia out of reach. Resigned, their father sighed and made his way to the kitchen door, exiting the house with a sense of finality. 

The room was enveloped in a heavy silence for a few moments. Finally, Arthur broke the quiet with a resigned sigh. “He’s our Dad,” 

Tommy, avoiding Arthur’s gaze, looked over at Lydia. He noticed how her eyes followed him, seeking the comfort and reassurance that only he could provide. Tommy moved towards her, and John gently eased Lydia forwards, allowing Tommy to take her.

With a tenderness that belied his usual manner, Tommy lifted Lydia effortlessly into his arms. She instinctively wrapped her small arms around his neck, finding solace in his embrace.

Arthur, unable to contain his frustration, stood abruptly, the legs of his chair scraping harshly against the floorboards. His eyes were filled with a mix of emotions - anger, longing and confusion. “Tommy,” he started, but Tommy cut him off, turning to face him.

“If you want to see him, Arthur… you want to see him? You can go with him.” Tommy’s voice was firm, leaving no room for argument as he gestured towards the door their father had exited through. Arthur hesitated for a moment, his inner conflict etched on his face, before storming off, leaving through the same door, Lydia watched him go, her heart heavy with worry.

As she nestled closer into Tommy’s arms, she felt his chin rest gently atop her head. His voice when he spoke was a soft murmur, a calming comfort to her troubled thoughts. “Everything’s alright now, little one,” he reassured her, his words wrapping around her like a protective cocoon, “I’ve got you,”

Lydia nodded against his shoulder, feeling the weight of her worries begin to lift. In Tommy’s arms, the chaos of the world faded away, leaving only the safety and security his presence promised. She knew, with unshakeable certainty, that as long as Tommy was there, she had nothing to be afraid of.

[amazingmsme]

Under the Table

AN: Was worried I might not finish since I was leaving my nana’s house today, but I was able to get it done pretty early! Here’s day 8 with the Shelby sibs ganging up on Tommy!

Perhaps the only time the Shelby family behaved like a normal, proper one was when they sat down for dinner. The sound of silverware clanking and scraping against plates could barely be heard over soft chatter. Talks of what they did that day, requests to pass the potatoes, and compliments on a delicious meal well made. You didn't make a scene at dinner, unless you wanted to face the wrath of Aunt Polly. Dinner was when they all behaved like civilized people and held conversation. Everyone knew that, especially Ada. Thomas shot her a glare, which she returned with an innocent grin.

He felt another squeeze on his knees and swore under his breath just as he hit the underside of the table. A loud bang startled everyone, jostling plates and causing glasses to slosh precariously. Polly gave a stern and unamused look from across the table, arching a brow.

"Everything alright Tommy?" she asked, though it was clear it didn't come from a place of concern. He gave a curt nod, staring intently at his plate.

"Yes, everything's fine."

"You sure? 'Cause that's about the fifth time I've had to catch my glass before you knock it over," she said accusingly. "So what's got you so damn fidgety?"

"I assure you, I'm fine," he insisted, making Ada stifle a laugh. Tommy fixed her with a look as Polly shifted her attention. Ada beamed from ear to ear as she scribbled her nails over her brother's kneecap, making him spasm and fight back a laugh. Unfortunately for him, his family was accustomed to the sight and slowly put two and two together.

"And you? Mind sharing what's so damn funny?" she asked, cocking her head expectantly. Arthur bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing, glancing at Tommy across the table.

"What, I can't be in a good mood?" she asked, leaning forward not so subtly and latching onto both of his knees. Thomas couldn't hold back the bark of laughter as he curled up, kicking the table so hard it hopped off the ground. Arthur stopped his and Polly's plates from sliding off. She was trying hard not to appear amused.

"Not if it's going to ruin our dinner," she said curtly.

"I don't see how that has anything to do with me. Tommy's the one flailin' about!" What had been one off squeezes turned into relentless ones, and he found himself sinking down in his chair as loud hysterical laughs echoed through the room.

Everyone was amused, eyes fixed on the scene before them. Arthur at this point was laughing along and managed to catch one of his brother's kicking legs. Tommy's eyes went wide and his chuckles kicked up a notch, morphing into nervous giggles as he tried in vain to stop him from taking off his shoes.

"NO! Arthur, Ihihi'll kill you!" he threatened, even holding his butter knife in a defensive position to add weight to his words, but it still wasn't enough to negate the effects of his rarely heard laughter.

"Well there's a sight you don't see everyday," Finn joked, a wide grin in his face as he watched from across the table. "Ada, don't forget to go for his ribs!"

"Nohoho, dohon't you dahahare!" he growled through gritted teeth, desperate to hold back but breathless snickers continued to push through the barricade of his teeth. He looked to Polly with pleading eyes. She was the only voice of reason in this madhouse, and the only one who wouldn't outright turn on him.

She knew she should put an end to this, to save Thomas from the wrath of his siblings and turn their attention back to their food, where it should be. But it's been so long since she's seen them all get along like this. And when was the last time she'd seen Tommy actually laugh and enjoy himself. So she really couldn't stop the fond smile that found its way on her face, or the warm feeling growing in her chest.

"Pohoholly! M-make thehem stohohohop!" he pleaded, but she saw something sparkling in his eyes and she knew: he was having fun.

"If you make him flip the table, you're all cleaning up." He scoffed indignantly at that response before chuckles and snorts overtook him once more.

"Except you Thomas,  I'm sure this is already punishment enough," she teased, shooting him a wink from across the table. She grabbed her plate and glass of water and left them to their devices.

And when she heard a telltale crash followed by Tommy's smug voice, "That's what you fucking get!" she just smiled to herself. She peeked in through the doorway to see Arthur, Ada and Finn picking up scraps of food and china from the floor. Thomas stood in the corner, brushing himself off and glaring at the lot of them, fighting off his grin.

"So, was it worth it?" she asked.

"No," Tommy answered the same time the rest answered with an enthusiastic yes.

[dragonsneversharetheirtreasure]

Son of Man: Elijah Gray, Eric Shelby and Finn Shelby

"They ruled Birmingham like Tommy, John and Arthur did before them. And they all had the best and worst traits of my brothers. Tommy's brains and looks, John's charms, Arthur's quiet rage that bubbled and burst if you dared to mess with any of the others. They screamed power. They carried Tommy, John and Arthur's legacies"

Ada Shelby on her brother, nephew and cousin

Though there's no one there to guide you No one to take your hand But with faith and understanding You will journey from boy to man

Son of man, look to the sky Lift your spirit, set it free Some day you'll walk tall with pride Son of man, a man, in time you'll be

@queenzee27 @munstysmind

[little-space-babe]

Our Violent Delights : A Peaky Blinders Story

Our Violent Delights : A Peaky Blinders Story

Two families: Gypsy and Moors

One curse: To kill them all

If Thomas Shelby got the missing crate filled with guns, then who got the crate with the motorcycle? Thomas Shelby may have recognizes an opportunity to move up in the world, but he never plan for it to bring some unexpected guests. Let alone family secrets.

[mindful-of-ideas]

Hot Summer Days

Peaky Blinders One Shot

Summary: At the end of the summer, Thomas decides it's time for the family to go on a well-deserved beach vacation. While you only work for him, you wound up getting invited.

A/N: I tried to leave this open in regards to pairing, hopefully it worked but maybe it feels like everyone is flirting with you. Also, this was supposed to be an imagine but you wouldn’t believe how hard it is to find the proper gif sometimes.

It came to you as a surprise when you heard that the Shelby family was planning a trip to the beach. Sure, you knew they could use the break and deserve some time away from the city, especially Finn, but that they would acknowledge that was surprising. Almost unsettling if you were being honest.

If something suspicious was looming under this trip, you had to make sure no one was going to get hurt.

Not physically, of course, but emotionally. This had slowly became your job ever since you got hired by Thomas Shelby himself. Officially, you were his secretary. Making sure papers were in order, reminding him of official and officious meetings, seeing that the boys weren’t too rowdy in the betting shop. Just your average secretary job. Things changed when it became apparent that you needed a desk and the only place available was near the entrance of the betting shop. Now, your job included greeting everyone as they came in. Slowly, you picked up on their habits. Arthur was not to be talked to before he had his coffee. Thomas would always greet you but only nod in your direction if something was on his mind. John would always take the time to talk to you. Finn would stop running up and down the shop if you took the time to ask him what he learned today. Ada only popped by when she needed something from Thomas or when she was sad and needed someone to listen to her. Esme, even if she would never admit it, always gushed over all of John's kids. Arthur takes his coffee black but with one sugar; it’s nicer on his stomach he says.

So if this trip the the beach was just a cover-up for something bigger, something nastier, you had to know. Otherwise, life could become unbearable at the betting shop.

You barely had a foot in the door when a loud voice yapped at you.

“Y/N, my office,” said Thomas sternly, “Now.”

The room had gone quiet. You quickly glanced at John but he looked as confused as you did. Could Thomas have known about what you were planning on asking him? Could he take offence to that? Maybe you got too eager, put your nose where you shouldn’t have? Could he even fire you for that? You couldn’t afford to lose this job. You couldn’t afford to get fired by the Shelbys out of all people.

You stepped into Thomas’ office shaking, your palms sweating.

“Please, sit down,” Thomas said gesturing to the chair facing him across his desk.

You did, maybe a little bit too slowly. You stared at your shoes, not daring to meet his eyes.

“Y/N, is everything okay? You look pale.”

If there was genuine worry in his voice, you couldn’t hear it over the buzzing that was now in your ears.

“I’m… I’m fine…” you finally said, “Just a bit tired I guess…”

“That’s perfect then,” he said clapping his hands together and making you jump, “Not that you are tired of course, that’s not what I meant… I…”

Now hearing his hesitation, you looked up. Thomas seemed uncomfortable. He was slowly scratching the back of his head, looking down, almost as if he was embarrassed.

“I meant… I was planning on taking everyone, the whole family, away on a vacation. To the beach as you may have heard. And I real vacation I might add. Just the sun, the waves, and… what I mean is… would you come with us?”

With his question, he looked up at you but your gaze had gone back to the floor.

“Y/N?” he asked quite firmly.

You looked up again.

“That’s better,” he said, “Now, will you come?”

But you were too stoned to say anything. Not only the vacation plan was real but you could go with them as well.

“It’s just that, you know, Finn really seems to like you,” Thomas started, “And so does Ada and Esme… it would be really nice if you could make it…“

Was he trying to convince you?

“… can get a word out of Arthur before noon. And with John, you’re just…”

“Yes!” you blurted out before he could finish, “I’ll be there!”

“Great!” he said smiling at you, “We leave tomorrow morning. Be here at 6:30 sharp.”

He gestured towards the door, inviting you to leave before getting back to his work.

As you got out of the office, you couldn’t help but smile. Yes, you were thrilled to get the time off and to go out with people you might just start calling friends, but mostly you were happy to know that your work had not gone unnoticed. But you barely had time to enjoy the moment. You could only take a few steps towards your desk before feeling a hard slap on your back. You turned around, a bit angry only to see a beaming Arthur.

“Moving up the ladder I see,” he said excitedly, “Next thing you know you’ll be part of the family! I can’t wait for tomorrow,” he added more quietly.

As soon as the day was over, you rushed home. 6:30 a.m. was early. Way too early. You still had to find clothes and your swimsuit. You hoped it still fit you. Living in Birmingham, there are not many opportunities to go to the beach. The last time you saw the ocean was probably well over ten years ago. You were still a child back then. But your mother had always told you to be ready for anything, so a few years back, after seeing that it was on sale, you bought a swimsuit. Just in case. Just in case you got invited by Thomas fucking Shelby to go to the beach with his family. In what world could something like this happen.

This one apparently. And your mother would tell you to seize the day and not look back. You grab the only bag big enough to fit all your things. Swimsuit, check. Towel, check. Sunglasses, check. Sandals, check. Hat, check. You went down your list until everything was in your bag. In the end, it was much and the bag closed easily. It was already past midnight when you finally laid on your bed and went to sleep.

At 6:30 a.m. sharp, the cars left for the ocean. You ended up squeezed between an overexcited Finn and a less-than-happy Arthur. It was way too early for him.

The ride wasn’t too long, just a little over two hours. As soon as you got out of the car, you were met with a whirling wind. Your hair danced crazily in front of your eyes. With one hand holding your bag you struggled to keep it under control.

“Here,” said Esme, “give your bag to John, I’ll help you.”

Still half blind, you lifted up your bag in front of you, hoping that this was where John was.

“Now,” said Esme raking her hands through your hair, “let me take care of this for you.”

Gently, she combed your hair back and started braiding it. A few strands from the front of your head escaped and started dancing in the wind again.

“You tell me if I hurt you,” she said. But you couldn’t hear a thing over the wind that has now picked up again.

“What!” you said hoping to be loud enough.

She leaned in closer to you.

“Tell me to stop if it hurts, okay?” she whispered gently in your ear.

You nodded slightly, not wanting to move too much and ruin your hair. A few moments later, she was done. You felt the cold wind on your neck before Esme wrapped her arm around it.

“Let’s go find the boys now!” she said before forcing you down the sandy hills and towards the beach.

When you got there, Thomas and John were already laying blankets under beach umbrellas while Arthur was still struggling to put his up. You knew asking him if he needed help was a bad idea but you had no other choice.

“Need a hand,” you asked gently.

He was struggling with keeping the umbrella at the right angle while hammering it down for it to stay in place. He grumbled something you couldn’t quite hear but took as a ‘yes’. You got to your knees and grabbed the umbrella with both hands. Arthur inclined it properly before hammering down a rock on its top. It took a few hits but it eventually was deep enough in the sand for it to hold in place.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, “You’ll wanna sit with me?”

“Sure,” you said grinning.

You placed down your towel by his before grabbing your bag again.

“Does anyone know where we can get changed?” you asked, mostly looking towards Ada and Esme.

“There’s a hut right by there,” Thomas answered first, vaguely pointing behind him towards yet more sandy hills.

“I guess I’ll have to figure it out myself,” you mumbled passing right by him.

And you did. Not far from where you had settled, there were a dozen of brightly coloured cabins all lined up neatly by a boardwalk. You quickly changed, keeping on an oversized shirt to cover your shoulder from the sun. It used to be your dad and went down to your mid-thigh. After a quick glance at yourself, you decided it was best to leave the last few buttons open. It looked better, but mostly it felt more comfortable.

You walked back down to the beach, your arms interlaced with Ada and Esme’s. Even from far away, you could see the boys running on the beach. What they were running for was however unclear.

“Are they…?” you started, not sure how to finish your question.

“Playing football?” Ada completed, “Yes! It’s been such a long time since I played with them too, come on!”

With that, she started running, dragging Esme and you behind her. Quickly, the teams were changed as you ended up facing Thomas, John and Esme. Your team was losing. Badly. Something about being too aggressive and not having enough strategy. As Ada and Arthur blocked the other team, you managed to get ahold of the ball. Without missing a beat, you ran up your makeshift field. As you were about to kick the ball, and hopefully score, John came out of nowhere, trying to steal it from you. You struggled to push him back, unknowingly drifting towards the water.

“It’s over Y/N!” roared John.

“Unless…” you started while trying to outsmart him.

You kicked the ball in between John’s legs and took a step forward trying to get control of it. But John stepped forward too, making you tumble backwards. Next thing you knew, you were in the water, John over you.

“Oh shit, sorry,” said John quickly getting up and offering you a hand.

“It’s… it’s okay,” you said between two coughs.

He pulled you up with a little bit more strength than you expected. You stumbled forward, catching yourself on John’s chest.

“Woah, easy there,” he said taking your hand and his.

“Sorry…” you said feeling the red rise to your cheeks.

“I’m messing with you, come on!” he said gently pushing the ball towards you.

Quickly, you took the ball back and sprinted towards the goal, scoring. The game went on, the score tied. As you tried to get in one last goal, you and Finn kicked the ball at the same time, sending it flying away.

“I’ll get it,” you both said at the same time, sprinting towards the ball.

The ball came to a stop in front of three tall men, all dressed in black suits.

“So sorry to have disturbed you,” you said politely, “We’ll just get the ball back…”

But one of the men put his feet on it before picking it up from the ground.

“Look, we don’t want any trouble…” you said now more quietly feeling that the situation was escaping your control.

“And what can someone as pretty as you give me in exchange for the ball?” the man asked stepping towards you.

You stepped back, but Finn stepped in front of you.

“Kid, move out the way,” the man said, pushing Finn to the side.

Finn struggled to keep his balance but came right back by your side.

“Now, come on,” the man went on, “I’m sure you can think of something.”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Finn whispered in your ear, “If they get too close, I’ll fight them off.”

You had trouble believing him after what you had just witnessed, but the thought was still comforting.

“You know what,” the man said, “Maybe I’ll just take what I want.”

He dropped the ball and made his way up to you. Finn grasped your hand and you held it as tight as you could. Before you could even will your body to run away, a loud voice snapped at the man.

“Don’t take another step,” Thomas said from behind you.

The man stopped dead in his tracks. He hesitated for a moment and then started laughing.

“Oh, come on man. I’ll let you have a turn after if that’s what you want.”

You looked over your shoulder. Thomas looked serious, dead serious, but you could tell there was a point of anger in him.

“Finn, get a move on,” he said walking towards you.

Finn went running back to his family. Thomas wrapped an arm around your shoulder, making you realize that you were shivering.

“Now,” Thomas said calmly, “you have two choices. Either you turn around and leave this beach, or you take another step forward and I make sure you, your friends and your whole family can never see the sun again.”

“Mate, come on! We were just having some fun,” the man said still smiling.

Somehow, that creeped you out even more and made you want to disappear from that man’s sight. You made yourself as small as possible against Thomas.

“Mate…” the man said now hesitating as Thomas’s face was still serious.

“Have you heard of the Peaky Blinders?” Thomas asked slowly.

But before you knew it, the men had turned away and were gone.

“You’re okay Y/N?” Thomas asked, looking down at you.

“Yeah… yeah I think I’m fine.”

“Let’s get back to the others,” he said.

“Y-yes.”

He kept his arm wrapped around your shoulders, his fingers lightly grasping your shirt sleeve.

The rest of the day went by quietly. Before you knew it, it was time to leave and go back to gloomy Birmingham.

“Can we get like ten more minutes?” Ada asked Thomas.

“No,” he answered simply.

“Five then,” she pleaded, “I promise, just five more minutes.”

“Fine,” Thomas finally agreed.

“Y/N, with me,” she ordered as she ran up the beach.

You were back by the boardwalk, but Ada made you turn away from the rainbow cabins this time. After just a few steps, you understood why she had brought you here. Ice cream.

“We’ll take two vanilla, two chocolate and one strawberry,” she said, “and it’s my treat,” she added before you could even say anything.

“Wha- well thanks,” you said slightly embarrassed.

As the vendor started handing the ice creams to her, she stuffed two in your hands.

“Yours and mine,” she said.

“Strawberry,” you said smiling, “you remembered.”

“Of course I did!” she said, “Now let’s go before they melt.

Giggling you made your way back down the hill. This truly had been the most amazing summer day.

[ranwing]

Glee Fic: A Fine, Fine Line (1/1)

Title: A Fine, Fine Line Pairing(s), Characters(s): Kurt Hummel, Blaine Anderson, Sebastian Smythe, Mercedes Jones, Rachel Berry, Finn Hudson, Coach Beiste, Will Schuester, Shelby Corcoran, All of New Directions. Not Blaine or Klaine Friendly, Future Kurtbastian Rating: PG13

Summary: After the disastrous West Side Story auditions, Kurt has decided that enough is enough and that he needed to make some serious changes in his life. With Mercedes and his willing partner in crime, he was going to shake up New Directions in a way that they never saw coming..

On AO3

[corrupte3d-mindz]

Forever a Shelby

Thomas Shelby x Wife Reader

Summary: Thomas and you get married.

Wordcount: 4.2k

Warnings:

protective! Thomas, cocky! Thomas if you squint, kissing, lap sitting,

Thomas Shelby stood at the altar, the weight of his suit jacket pressing down on his broad shoulders. The church was grand, decorated with white lilies and gold ribbons, a stark contrast to the gritty streets of Birmingham that he knew so well.

Sunlight streamed through stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the stone floor. The pews were filled with both Shelbys and Changrettas, two families whose histories were steeped in blood and rivalry. Today, however, was meant to be a day of unity, a truce symbolized by the marriage of Thomas Shelby and the daughter of his fiercest enemy, Luca Changretta. Arthur stood beside him, a rare softness in his eyes as he glanced back at the congregation. He reached out, patting Thomas on the shoulder, his grip firm but comforting. "Nervous, Tommy?"

Thomas turned his head slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching in what could almost be considered a smile. "No, Arthur," he replied, his voice low and steady. "Nervous ain't in my nature." His accent, thick and rich, rolled off his tongue, a constant reminder of his roots.

Polly Gray sat in the front row, her dark eyes fixed on her nephew. There was a mixture of pride and apprehension in her gaze, a silent prayer for the future. Beside her, Michael leaned back, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed the gathering. Arthur's wife, Linda, looked on with a serene expression, her hand resting in her lap. John sat a few rows behind, bouncing his baby on his knee, his wife Esme smiling warmly at the scene. Ada, dressed in a striking blue dress, chatted animatedly with Finn, while Johnny Dogs and Isaiah exchanged hushed whispers, their eyes darting around the room. The tension in the air was palpable, a heady mix of anticipation and unease. Thomas felt it in his bones, the weight of expectations and the ghosts of the past pressing down on him. Marrying into the Changretta family was a strategic move, but it wasn’t a strategic move on his part, it was love. Yes, Thomas Shelby had fallen in love with a Changretta but the same could be said for her.

“Now, hush Arthur. She’ll be walking down that aisle any minute now,” Thomas murmured, his voice a low growl that carried an edge of authority. He straightened his posture, his gaze fixed on the ornate doors at the end of the aisle

Arthur looked at him again; “You sure you’re not nervous?” Thomas could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on him, waiting for his reaction. He turned his head slightly, his gaze locking onto Arthur’s for a moment before he replied.

“I said I’m not fucking nervous, Arthur,” he said, his voice low and steady, laced with a thick Birmingham accent that carried an edge of impatience. To emphasize his point, he kicked Arthur in the back of his left knee, causing his brother to stumble briefly. Thomas chuckled, a rare, genuine sound that broke the tension momentarily. He could always count on Arthur to lighten the mood, even if unintentionally.

The sound of the organ began to fill the room, a deep, resonant melody that signaled the start of the ceremony. The guests fell silent, their attention shifting to the doors that were slowly opening. Thomas took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it, the moment that would seal their fate, for better or worse; who was he kidding? It was for better! As the doors opened fully, revealing her figure, Thomas felt a rush of emotions. She stood there, framed by the golden light that spilled in from the hallway, her silhouette ethereal and almost otherworldly. Her dress, a delicate creation of black lace and satin, hugged her form gracefully, the long train trailing behind her like a whisper. A veil covered her face, but even through the sheer fabric, Thomas could see the outline of her features, delicate and serene.

Her father, Luka Changretta, stood beside her, his expression a mask of pride and caution. The tension between the two men was palpable, a silent reminder of the bloody history that lay between their families. Thomas’s eyes never left her as she began her slow walk down the aisle. Each step she took seemed to echo in his mind, a steady rhythm that matched the beating of his heart. He could see the slight tremble in her hands, the way she clutched her bouquet of white roses a little too tightly. Despite the nerves, she moved with a grace and determination that he found both admirable and endearing.

Arthur leaned in slightly, his voice a whisper in Thomas’s ear. “She looks beautiful, Tommy.”

Thomas nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from her. “Aye, she does,” he replied, his voice softer now, filled with an emotion he rarely allowed himself to feel. In that moment, he felt a connection to her that went beyond their shared history, beyond the political and familial implications of their marriage. It was something deeper, a bond that he hoped would grow stronger with time. The sound of the organ began to fill the room, a deep, resonant melody that signaled the start of the ceremony. The guests fell silent, their attention shifting to the doors that were slowly opening. Thomas took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it, the moment that would seal their fate, for better or worse. But it was never worse, it saw always for better. As she reached the front of the aisle, Luka placed her hand in Thomas’s, a gesture heavy with significance. Their eyes met, while under the veil; a silent understanding passing between them, He lifted the delicate veil that covered her face, their eyes meeting in a silent understanding. This was not just a marriage of convenience or strategy; it was a commitment to each other, to the future they would build together.

Jeremiah stood before them, the priest's presence both comforting and solemn. His voice, deep and resonant, filled the chapel, echoing off the ancient walls. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join together in holy matrimony Thomas Michael Shelby and _______ LaPaglia Changretta." His words carried the weight of history and expectation, binding not just two people, but two families with a fraught past.

Thomas's eyes flickered to the woman beside him. _______ LaPaglia Changretta. She was beautiful, her dark hair cascading in soft waves over her shoulders, her eyes a deep, enigmatic brown. Her dress was elegant, simple yet stunning, the black fabric contrasting sharply with her olive skin. She stood with a quiet grace, her expression serene, yet there was a fire in her eyes that spoke of strength and determination.

Jeremiah's voice cut through the silence. "Do you, Thomas Michael Shelby, take _______ LaPaglia Changretta to be your lawful wedded wife?" Thomas felt the weight of the moment pressing down on him. Every decision, every move he made was calculated, and this was no different. "I do," he said, his voice steady, firm. It was a commitment not just to her, but to the path he had chosen, the alliances he was forging.

He turned to her. "Do you, _______ LaPaglia Changretta, solemnly swear to love, honor, and obey till death do you part?" Her response was immediate, her voice clear and unwavering. "I do." There was a finality in those words, a binding promise that echoed through the chapel, sealing their fates together.

Jeremiah's proclamation was met with a collective breath, as if the entire room had been holding it in anticipation. "I now pronounce you husband and wife." The words hung in the air, a declaration that felt both momentous and surreal. Thomas turned to his new wife, his expression unreadable. He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that sealed their union. It was a kiss that spoke of duty and obligation, but beneath it all, there was a spark, a glimmer of something more. As they turned to face their families, the applause was polite, restrained. This was no ordinary wedding, and the people gathered here understood the gravity of the situation. Arthur left the alter and walk to the pew to join his family. Their expression a mix of approval and caution. Polly Gray, ever the matriarch, watched with a keen eye, her sharp mind assessing every nuance, every subtle shift in the room.

The Changrettas were less expressive, their faces a mask of formality. Luca Changretta's presence was a dark cloud, a reminder of the delicate balance they were trying to achieve. His eyes bore into Thomas, a silent challenge that promised future confrontation. Thomas took her hand as they walked down the aisle, the weight of expectation heavy on his shoulders. Every step was a reminder of the path he had chosen, he wouldn’t ever regret it; the future he was forging. The guests rose as they passed, their eyes following the couple, whispers of speculation and curiosity filling the air. This was a union that would be talked about for years to come, a merging of two powerful families with a history of bloodshed and betrayal.

Outside the chapel, the sun shone brightly, a stark contrast to the somber atmosphere within. The reception awaited, a lavish affair that promised to be both a celebration and a test of the new alliance. As they stepped into the sunlight, Thomas felt the warmth on his face, a brief respite from the shadows that seemed to follow him wherever he went. He glanced at her, her smile a beacon of hope in the uncertainty that lay ahead.

"Welcome to the family," Thomas said, his voice low, the Birmingham accent thick and unmistakable.

The kitchen was a stark contrast to the rest of Arrow House, filled with the smell of freshly baked bread and the earthy scent of the wood burning in the hearth. Thomas stood at the head of the room, his piercing blue eyes scanning the room, ensuring he had the attention of every man present. The weight of the day was palpable; this was his wedding day, a day that marked a significant turning point in his life and the Shelby family. His dark suit was meticulously tailored, each stitch a testament to his attention to detail, and his peaked cap sat jauntily on his head, casting a shadow over his face that made his intense expression even more formidable.

"Right, boys, you're all here," he began, his voice carrying the authoritative edge that had come to define him. The men around the kitchen, his brothers Arthur, John, and Finn, along with Michael and a few trusted others, like Charlie and Johnny Dogs turned their attention to him. Each face was a study in respect and a touch of fear, for they knew Thomas was not a man to be crossed, especially not today.

"Today, this is my fucking wedding day," Thomas continued, his tone brooking no argument. His words hung in the air, heavy with the unspoken understanding that this day was sacred, not just for him, but for the entire Shelby clan. It was a rare occasion of vulnerability, where the hard-edged leader allowed a glimpse of the man beneath the armor.

John, ever the irreverent one, couldn't help but interject. "Yeah, and you said there'd be no bloody uniforms," he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of defiance and humor. The tension in the room crackled for a moment, a testament to the volatile nature of their relationships. Thomas fixed John with a steely gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Nevertheless... Nevertheless, John..." he began, his voice a low growl that seemed to reverberate off the walls. He took a step closer, his presence dominating the room. "Despite the bad blood, I'll have none of it on my carpet." His words were a command, not a request, and the message was clear: today was about unity, not division.

His gaze swept around the circle, making eye contact with each man, ensuring they understood the gravity of his words. "Now for my wife's sake, nothing will go wrong," he declared, his voice firm and unyielding. His love for his bride was a rare softness in his otherwise hardened demeanor, and he was determined to protect her from the chaos that often surrounded the Shelbys. Thomas pointed outside the kitchen, towards the bustling preparations for the wedding. "Those bastards out there are her family," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of disdain. He had little patience for those who might threaten the harmony of his wedding day, and he would go to great lengths to ensure everything went smoothly.

His hand traveled around the circle, pointing at each man in turn as he spoke. "And if you fuckers do anything to embarrass her, your kin, your cousins, your horses, your fucking kids, you do anything..." His voice trailed off as he fixed his gaze on Arthur, the eldest and most unpredictable of the brothers. There was a pause, a moment where the weight of his words seemed to settle over the room like a heavy fog.

Isaiah, leaning casually against the counter, broke the uneasy silence. "Tom..?" Thomas's gaze snapped to Isaiah, a flicker of impatience crossing his features. "To... WHAT!?" he barked, his voice low but commanding.

He hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "What about snow," he ventured, his tone cautious. John eyes narrowed, the muscles in his jaw tightening. "Yeah, their women are sports, I’ll say that.."

"No. No. No." Thomas cut him off sharply, striding towards Isaiah with purpose. He stopped inches from his face, his breath hot and laced with the smell of tobacco. "No cocaine," he said, jabbing a finger towards Isaiah's face for emphasis. "No cocaine."

The room fell silent, the tension palpable as Thomas turned his attention to John, who stood to Isaiah's right. "No sport," Thomas said, waving his hand dismissively. "No telling fortunes."

He began to pace, the soles of his polished shoes tapping rhythmically against the tiled floor. Each step seemed to echo with unspoken threats, a reminder of the consequences of disobedience. He approached Arthur, his oldest and most volatile brother, stopping just short of him. "No racing," Thomas ordered, his voice a low growl. Arthur met his gaze with a slight nod, the fire in his eyes dimmed by his brother's authority. Breaking from the circle, Thomas crossed to Finn, the youngest of the Shelby brothers. Grabbing Finn's face with his left hand, he forced him to look into his eyes. "No fucking sucking petrol," he snarled, his grip tightening. He delivered a light slap to Finn's cheek, a reminder of the discipline he expected. "Out of their fucking cars."

Satisfied, Thomas released Finn and turned to Charlie, who had been lingering on the edge of the group. "And, you, Charlie," he said, his voice softer but no less intense. "Stop spinning yards about me, eh?" Charlie, taken aback, spoke up as Thomas turned his back. "I'm just trying to sell you to them, Tom," he defended.

Thomas took a deep drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling around his face as he exhaled. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, a rare sign of the stress he carried. Returning to the center of the circle, he spun slowly, addressing them all. "But the main thing is, you bunch of fuckers," he began, his voice rising with intensity. "Despite the provocation from her family, no fighting."

He turned his head slightly, locking eyes with Isaiah. The room seemed to hold its breath as Thomas slowly made his way toward him, the echo of his footsteps on the wooden floor punctuating the silence. As he reached Isaiah, Thomas lifted his chin with a firm but controlled hand, forcing Isaiah to meet his gaze. His eyes were cold, yet there was a flicker of something deeper—an unspoken understanding, perhaps. “Oi,” Thomas began, his voice a low growl that resonated with authority. He pointed a finger at Isaiah, his expression unwavering. “No fighting.”

With a swift, deliberate movement, Thomas shifted to his right, positioning himself in front of John. He didn’t waste a moment, his finger darting out to point at John with the same intensity. “No fucking fighting,” he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument. John's smirk faltered under Thomas's glare, replaced by a nod of compliance.

Thomas moved again, this time to Arthur. Their eyes met, and an unspoken tension filled the air. Arthur, ever the wild card, was the one Thomas needed to keep in check the most. Pointing at his older brother, Thomas's voice was a commandment. “No fighting.” Arthur, his usual bravado momentarily subdued, nodded with a grunt, understanding the gravity of the order. Next, Thomas’s eyes fell on Michael, who was leaning against the wall with a nonchalant air. Without a word, Thomas pointed at him. Michael straightened up, his casual demeanor replaced by a look of acknowledgement. The silent exchange spoke volumes—Michael knew exactly what was expected of him.

Finally, Thomas turned towards Finn’s direction, his youngest brother, “No,” he said, his voice slicing through the tension. He then swung his gaze back to Arthur’s direction. “Fucking.” And finally, his eyes landed on Charlie's direction. “Fighting.”

The room fell silent once more, the weight of Thomas’s words hanging heavily in the air. Each man understood the simplicity of the command. In this room, defying Thomas Shelby was not an option. Thomas took a drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing brightly in the dim light, and exhaled a plume of smoke. He walked towards his coat, which was draped over a chair between Michael and Arthur. “Good,” he muttered, his satisfaction evident in the single word. With his back turned slightly, Thomas didn’t see the butler approaching. The man, new to the household and unfamiliar with the Shelby way, hesitated for a moment too long. The collision was inevitable. The impact was sudden, and Thomas spun around, his face a mask of fury. “Get the fuck off me!” he snarled, shoving the butler to the ground. The bottle of wine the butler had been holding shattered on the floor, red liquid spreading like blood across the wood.

Arthur, ever the enforcer, hurled his glass at the butler, the sound of shattering glass echoing through the room. The butler scrambled to his feet, fear written all over his face as he hurried out of the kitchen, leaving behind a mess of broken glass and spilled wine. Thomas exhaled one last plume of smoke before stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray. He adjusted his coat, smoothing out the fabric as he straightened up. “Right,” he said, his voice breaking the silence. “Let’s get this done.” He turned on his heel and strode out of the kitchen, his family and comrades falling into step behind him. The sound of their footsteps echoed through the hallway as they made their way towards the main event. Thomas’s mind was already racing ahead, planning, strategizing, ensuring that everything would go smoothly. But the words he had spoken in the kitchen lingered in the air, a solemn vow that no matter what happened, there would be no fighting. Not today.

As Thomas Shelby sat at the head of the table during his wedding dinner, the room was alive with the clinking of cutlery and the murmur of conversation. He raised the crystal glass to his lips, savoring the last drops of whiskey that burned pleasantly down his throat. Setting the glass down with a soft clink, his eyes swept across the room, taking in the faces of his family and the guests. His gaze lingered for a moment on his wife her beauty striking even in the dim candlelight. She was radiant, her smile lighting up the room. But as his eyes drifted to her father, he noticed the man's steely gaze fixed upon him. Thomas arched an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"You look absolutely stunning today, luv," Thomas remarked, his voice low and tinged with admiration. "Hard to keep me eyes off of you." He reached out to gently squeeze her hand, a small, affectionate gesture amidst the formality of the occasion.

"I can say the same for you, Mr. Shelby," she replied, her smile radiant as she returned his gaze, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

Thomas smiled, a rare, genuine expression that softened his features. His attention then shifted to her father, a man of stature and presence, seated a bit farther down to her. "Well, you're not the only one whose eyes are on me, eh?" he quipped, a hint of playful charm in his voice.

"Luv," he murmured, leaning towards his wife, "would you mind telling your father to stop staring me down, eh?" His tone was light, teasing, but there was a hint of challenge in his eyes.

His bride glanced nervously at her father, then back at Thomas. "Tommy, I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice tinged with apprehension, "but that's just how he is."

Thomas nodded slowly, his gaze unwavering. "I see," he replied, his voice low and measured. He leaned back in his chair, his mind working quickly. He was used to dealing with difficult situations, but this was his wedding day, a day that should have been free of such tensions.

There was a moment of hesitation, a flicker of doubt in Thomas's eyes as he considered the weight of his actions. But then, with a determined glint in his eye, he reached out and gently cupped her face in his hand. She looked at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears, and he knew that this was where he belonged. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that was both tender and passionate, a silent declaration of his love and commitment. The room erupted into applause and cheers, the sound echoing off the walls as Thomas and Luka's families celebrated their union.

Hours had slipped by like fleeting ghosts since Thomas had exchanged vows, and now, in the quiet intimacy of their bedroom, he sat with his new wife perched gently on his lap. The flickering light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow, accentuating the soft features of her face and the delicate curves of her figure. He gazed at her, his eyes tracing every line, every contour, as if committing her beauty to memory.

"You're absolutely gorgeous, Mrs. Shelby," he murmured, his voice a low, husky rasp that betrayed a hint of awe. His hands, calloused yet gentle, cradled her waist, fingers tracing idle patterns on the fabric of her dress. The weight of her presence on his lap was a comfort, grounding him in the reality of this new chapter of his life.

"I like when you call me Mrs. Shelby," she said softly, her voice a soothing melody in the quiet room. Her words were like a balm to his weary soul, a reminder of the new life they were beginning together.

Thomas wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. He rested his chin on her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her hair. It was a moment of peace amidst the chaos that always seemed to follow him.

"I like it too," he replied, his voice low and gravelly. "It suits you, Mrs. Shelby."

"You're fuckin' perfect for me... y'know that?" Thomas's voice was low, almost a whisper, but filled with sincerity. His hand reached up to cup her face, his thumb brushing gently against her cheek. There was a gentleness in his touch, a rare vulnerability that he showed only to her.

Their lips met in a tender kiss, a silent affirmation of their love and commitment to each other. It was a moment of pure intimacy, a shared connection that transcended words. Her hands roamed freely, exploring his body with a familiarity that spoke of countless nights spent together. Thomas pulled her closer, his other hand wrapping around her waist, holding her as if afraid she might slip away. Their kiss deepened, a silent communication of their love and desire for each other. It was a dance they knew well, a rhythm that was uniquely theirs. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss even further. His hair, usually so meticulously styled, was now a tousled mess, a testament to the passion between them. She loved the way his hair felt between her fingers, the way it seemed to have a life of its own.

They broke the kiss, but remained intertwined, her head resting against his chest, his chin on her shoulder. They sat in comfortable silence, the weight of the day's events slowly settling on their shoulders. The gravity of their new union was not lost on Thomas; he knew the responsibilities that came with it, the need to protect and provide for his new family. His mind drifted to the future, a future now entwined with hers. He thought of the challenges they would face, the dangers that lurked in the shadows of their world. But he also thought of the moments of joy, the simple pleasures they would share.

Author’s Notes:

Y’all, I fucking love this oneshot..it’s so cute I finally did my own rendition of the wedding scene..ahhhhhhhh I feel like I got it just right y’all..ahh it’s fucking cute!!!

Deadass I should have written smut but nah, I don’t feel like it

[novashelby]

The Balls in Our Courts-Chapter Twenty-Two

Pairing: TommyxOCxFinn

Warning: Nudity in front of minor without sexual intent

Chapter Summary: Tommy hates Paris. Amelia learns something awful about Tommy

Links:

Ao3

Wattpad

[auroracalisto]

How about "I just want a nice, easy life! Maybe a couple cats and a house in the middle of nowhere. What's so wrong with that?" with Finn Shelby, please? 🥺🙏🏼

"I just want a nice, easy life! Maybe a couple cats and a house in the middle of nowhere. What's so wrong with that?"

Finn stared you down for a moment, lips parted as he thought of what to say, but no words left him.

"I don't want all this," you lamented, arms crossed over your chest. "I've lived with it my whole life! I can't keep doing this, Finn."

He let out a soft sigh, closing his eyes. He knew. He understood what you meant. And when it came to you, he knew he would do anything. Even if it meant leaving the family business behind to give you the life you deserved.

"You don't have to," he softly said.

You were prepared to continue your tirade, having formulated an argument in your head long before the conversation had even begun.

"Every day is just—wait," you turned to face him, eyes searching his face to see if he was just pulling your leg. It wouldn't have been the first time. "You mean it?"

Finn's lips curved into a small smile. "Is the sky blue?"

You blinked slowly at him, your bottom lip tucking in between your teeth.

"When do you want to leave?" asked Finn.

You tilted your head. "What?"

"You really want me to repeat myself, love? I'll leave. Right now, I'll get my shit and we can go. Anywhere. I'll find a place. If that's what you want."

You reached forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

"You are the best husband anyone could ask for, Finn Shelby."

"I know," he said, a cheeky smile forming soon after. "Now, come here. We'll have to find a way to... well, tell Tommy."

[collecting-stories]

The Lakes - Finn Shelby

Summary: reader contemplates all the ways they’ve fallen in love with Finn.

A/N: this is just some fluff nonsense that I found half finished in my drafts.

← Folklore Masterlist | TS Anthology Series →

✰ and I want you right here ✰

“You know what that’ll do to you?” Finn was already lighting up your cigarette as he asked the question, watching you draw in a breath of smog before blowing it back out, hazy and white in the dusk of Small Heath. His own cigarette lingered between his fingers as he waited for your answer, as if he was dependent upon a reply.  

“I’ve a mind to find out,” you replied, looking away momentarily, back down the street where he’d come from, the looming church in the distance. “My mum says it’s not proper.”  

You could hear her voice in the back of your head, lithe but shrill, warning you that bad habits would chase away good suitors. There was only one you had in mind, the same one you’d been saying since you were small. You could remember still, even looking at him now all tall and lean like his brothers (save for Tommy who’d inherited his mother’s height), toking on a cigarette as if he were contemplating the whole of the world, the way your heart had pounded up into your chest the first time you laid eyes on Finn Shelby in a different light.  

Ten years old, troublemakers in your own rights, Polly used to remark that the pair of you were thick as thieves whenever she saw you playing together. When you were little, dirty knees and scraped palms seemed like the perfect forever. You couldn’t imagine a different kind of life, the world was only as big as Small Heath and you had everything you needed right on Watery Lane. It wasn’t all true anymore, you’d seen London and Edinburgh and heard stories from Grace about America. The world was vast and you had an itch that begged for exploration. But everything you needed was still right there, in the middle of Watery Lane behind a black door. Tall and lean and ginger, with a smile that melted your insides and made your heart feel warm. He had freckles like constellations across his face and shoulders and other places that would make your mother blush if she knew you’d seen them. 

“If your mum wanted you to be proper she’d have kept a closer eye on you,” he teased, eyes lighting up as he smiled.  

“You think that would’ve stopped me?” You asked, as if Finn wasn’t as magnetic as the sun, pulling you into his orbit with little effort. A smile directed at you was enough for him to have your whole heart.  

“Not at all,” he replied, curls bouncing as he shook his head. His hair was unusually unkempt, soft ginger curls enticing and free of gel. His typically shaved sides and back grown out just enough that you could run your fingers through it but not grasp it yet. He’d trim it by the weekend for the party but for now, he’d let it go. Finn liked the uniform look of the blinders, mostly because it meant that people recognised him immediately. If not instantly as the youngest Shelby brother than at least as a blinder. But he knew you liked when he didn’t bother with fixing his hair. The beeswax tended to make you break out in hives when you came in contact with it and more than looking like a blinder, Finn liked the feeling of your hands in his hair.  

He was rewarded for going without the product when you reached out and brushed some fringe out of his eyes, fingers dancing along the freckles on his face as you cupped his cheek. Your other hand held your cigarette, somewhat over the idea of smoking with Finn. You’d suggested it, if only because he said he had to get back home and you were trying to stall him.  

“Are you still going to London this weekend?” You asked, a faint smile gracing your features as he turned his head into your hand and pressed a kiss to your fingers.  

He hummed, green eyes meeting yours, “are you going to come with me?” He’d been asking you to go back to London with him whenever the opportunity arose. You’d been once with your family and once with him (something that your mother had not been thrilled to discover) and Finn had been clear about wanting to take you back to the city.  

There was a charm about London that didn’t exist in Small Heath. This town was your whole world but sometimes it felt suffocating, everyone knew Finn and by association, you. There wasn’t a place you could go that you could just disappear into the crowd, where it could just be you and Finn without the pressure his brothers provided.  

London meant work but it was also a city too big for everyone to know who Finn was. When he got away from whatever his brothers needed him for and it was just the two of you, there was something distinctly peaceful about it.  

“My mum’s not keen on me going down to London,” you replied, even though it was silly to mention. Finn was well aware of your mum’s opinions though it always surprised him that she didn’t try to keep the two of you apart.  

“Is that a no?” He asked, taking another drag of his cigarette when you pulled your hand away.  

You placed your own between your lips but then removed it just as quickly, as if it was only a place holder while you were debating what to say. “No.” You shook your head, “I’ll go.”  

Finn’s face lit up, eyes sparkling and smile ear to ear. You swore a little piece of your heart ached at the look of absolute happiness he gave you, so much like the ten year old boy you once knew, and folded away the image for another time. You could’ve spent the rest of your life carefully annotating every look that crossed Finn Shelby’s face, every emotion that he felt charted for you to recall someday when he wasn’t with you anymore and it was all memories.  

“Someday you won’t have to worry about your mum’s permission,” Finn mentioned it as if it was something he’d considered before.  

“Doubt it’ll matter if I’m married, she’ll be there giving me her two cents about whatever I’m doing,” you replied, “though I’ll hopefully not be under the same roof.”  

“Pol‘ll just drive you mad instead,” he mused, “though she’s always had a soft spot for you.”  

“I’m moving in with Polly when I get married?” You asked, mirroring back the happy expression he’d had moments ago. 

“Maybe just at first, then we’ll get a place. Like Tommy, out in the country and away from the smog.”  

“Wouldn’t matter to me,” you mused, “I’d brave the smog for you.”  

[divinekangaroo]

i might be super late to the party but i was lurking in he tags and: i would LOVE some more explanation/in depth study of what was going on with Tommy and Finn, especially in the last season. I am still, not confused per es, but just wondering alot about some of the choices

This is so interesting, isn't it, particularly when you look at it comparing what 30yo Tommy says to 11yo Finn in S1 versus what 43yo Tommy says to 25yo Finn in S6.

I will warn this isn't coherent in ANY WAY as my infant is being grumpy, but here's a lump of things which struck me as worthy of indepth consideration:

-S1 Tommy telling Finn "don't be me" versus S6 where Tommy basically forces Finn to break his promise to his wife and drink, a mimicry of all the things Tommy has done (go abstinent, fall off the wagon, break promises to his wives).

-Finn being present at all the various violences the Shelby brothers commit, including as a child picking out his own machete (!!!) for one of the mob battles (think it was Epsom?); doing this well enough that he had a reputation -- Songbird Lady in S5 knew enough about the Shelbys to name her new Songbirds 'Tommy, Arthur and Finn'.

-Accidentally or deliberately, Tommy having set up Finn to develop Tommy's vices - cigarettes, drinking, drugs, whoring - pretty much all by the time Finn turned 16. But S5 Tommy nevertheless being very opposed to Finn developing Tommy's vice for violence and risk-tasking, albeit framed as 'we're too high in criminal hierarchy to do grunt work now' not 'you of all of us never have to risk yourself'

-Finn being involved in and integrated into all their illegal business but as a sort of free labour, gopher ('go for'/fetch like an apprentice, or a squire to a knight) - manning the door, bringing around the car, etc

-Finn seeming to hero-worship Tommy, but actually having a brotherly emotional relationship with Arthur. Tommy to emulate, Arthur to actually be a brother.

-Finn and Arthur being the only ones willing to entertain a conversation with their father on his return - Finn trusted Arthur not Tommy, Finn had no father figure, and Tommy did not fill this father figure space or Finn never would have gone with Arthur.

- Tommy brokering Arthur, John and Polly's marriages, and endorsing Ada's partnerships before the family accept them (and Tommy doing what he likes with his own marriages). Then, this way S6 Finn asks Tommy about marrying a girl 'who likes the life' and Tommy telling him no, 'find a girl who doesn't like the life'. And then Finn marries Mary with Tommy's endorsement to the family, and Mary tells Finn not to drink until after 6pm. I did wonder if Mary was the first girl, or was Mary a different girl that Tommy found/endorsed? Because Mary doesn't seem like a girl who likes the life if she's setting limitations on drinking time?

- Finn was effectively raised by Polly. The Shelby mother and father were gone by the time he was 1. Arthur and Tommy (and John) were gone to war by the time Finn was 5, and only returned at when he was 10. Finn had no father figure, ever.

---

So there's this odd push-pull where Finn is clearly one of the Bad Shelby Brothers, because at that time, having him integrated and present in their business was likely the best and easiest way to signify he was protected as well as keep an eye on him. They also used him very much like a squire to their knights, doing the labour and supportive chores and shitty jobs in order to learn the higher level jobs. But then those many conflicted occurances where it seems that Tommy wishes Finn wasn't so involved? Tommy wishes in many ways Finn was less invested in the business so Finn could be released from it? But maybe he doesn't, because Tommy in multiple circumstances challenges Finn with presentation of a vice and Finn always, always indulges -- even if that time, Tommy said don't rather than do?

---

Then we have this interesting symbolic thing happening in S6 between Duke and Finn and Tommy, all revolving around watches.

Duke steals Arthur's watch -- 'I can tell the time' - and in S5, Michael's supposed takeover piece has this strong sense of time -- time for the next generation to step up and time for old men like Tommy to step off the stage and Michael fully brings Finn into it (with Finn's consent/support, or unexpectedly??) and the camera focuses on Finn. So, linked to Michael's failed takeover via the motif of time, Duke can also tell it's time for the next generation, demonstrated by getting one over on ol' Arthur?

Then, Duke only believes Tommy is his father after Tommy explains about Duke's mum's watch that actually, Tommy stole in his youth; and Tommy's brought Duke into the fold so preciptiously because Tommy's (due to terminal diagnosis) running out of time to tidy up his family's loose ends and has to do this now. But also, Duke is symbolically returning time to Tommy that Tommy otherwise wouldn't have by bringing back Tommy's decades-old stolen watch?

Then Tommy has that explosion at Finn about drinking when he wants to and uses Finn's watch to make his point: that says Shelby and you're a Shelby so you tell the watch what time it is. Behind all that is this sense that I bet Tommy wishes he could control time, too, because he'd love to wind it back right now that his time is running out, but also, Finn is a young Shelby and could determine it's time for himself to step up if he simply stopped doing what Tommy kept telling him to do?

In a world where Tommy wasn't running out of time and/or Duke didn't appear, I imagine Finn may have been brought to one side for a quiet chat about Billy Grade and his role in Polly's death. I imagine Finn would have been absolutely destroyed that his sole true caretaker figure was dead because of his loose tongue. I imagine he would have killed Billy, or at least supported Billy being executed. But in this world, Tommy is dying and running out of time, and Tommy is delegating many of his painful tasks to others to do because he can't do everything right now, and why not test both Duke and Finn? Test this next generation as to their readiness to take his place? And who's left in the next generation but for Finn and Duke given Michael's proven himself unsuitable and Charlie is far too young? (I'm sure Uncle Charlie probably had some secret remit to re-home Duke if Duke failed in that scenario too)

---

And I also find it a super interesting parallel that Tommy forces Finn to demonstrate Shelby family loyalty by shooting his best friend, an act Tommy himself did with shooting Alfie for Alfie's betrayal that nearly killed Arthur. In this instance Arthur only almost died so Alfie only almost died - whereas Billy had to really fully die.

---

I mean, none of this gets to a satisfactory conclusion, it's just a bunch of conflicted threads/thoughts. I feel Tommy was vaguely treating Finn like a squire in a faint anticipation of one having Finn step up and take over the business from him, there's a near 20-year age gap between them, but Tommy was always conflicted by this because 1) he didn't really want his littlest brother to have to do the same shit he did, and 2) Finn was not leadership material, smart or cunning in any way, he was really just a consumer of the Shelby proceeds and always obeyed and never really acted to assert himself in the hierarchy. This faintest possibility of Finn taking over was then derailed heavily by Michael who was smart so Tommy dropped those vague unformed thoughts about Finn, but after Tommy knew Michael would be out of the picture in some way in S4 when suspicions start to rise? Finn starts to show up again in Tommy's arc in a very different way, and is put under various levels of pressure, right up to this S6 contrived scenario between Finn and Duke.

I get a sense that over time, Tommy challenged Finn repeatedly with situations of vice, corruption, conflict, difficulty, in the hope Finn would demonstrate enough strength to push back against Tommy instead of performing the vice. But Finn never did, and even when he fucked up, it was a silly mistake not worthy of any respect, not even in the way Michael is worthy of the respect of being killed; and so he is always framed in Tommy's mind as the weak one. There's a clannish behaviour (where clans are about constantly fluid status, not granted/earned and static rank) where you only get status if you behave in a way that already is of that status. Finn never, ever did this. Tommy then contrives a situation of extreme pressure as a last ditch effort to see if Finn will stop being that squire, weak one, or will he finally act according to the status he should be able to claim.

It's also this working class thing of dumping shit and abuse on your sons until your sons are strong enough to force you to stop. Finn's not a son, but that mentality...

---

I'm sorry this is so rambly, one of those fun things that it takes more time to be brief and succinct than just word-vomit on a screen XD Post S6, I have only two fic concepts in my to-write list, and one of them is 100% about Finn, trying to reconcile all of the above. I think Finn's actor did an amazing job of packing so much pain into that final scene it'd be a disappointment if any eventual movie doesn't give him a heavy arc.

[wandawiccan60]

The Witch of Camden Town

Part 21

ALFIE SOLOMON’S MASTERLIST

TAGS: @kittycatcait219, @i-love-th-characters1, @akiralife, @hecatemoon87, @evita-shelby, @tomhardyspinkyfinger, @zablife, @star017, @omgeternal, @tea-atfive, @thefics-that-drip, @ao3feed-symbrock, @solomons-finest-rum, @jollysoulfestivalfreak, @buttercupsandboys, @bubblyani, @weirdgirl16355, @97freaknik, @thealmightybitchgoddess, @theshelbyclan,

A/N: Hii everyone and I am back with another chapter!!! I know I have been away for so, so, so long and it is good to be able to upload another new chapter to the story, I have been going back and forth in trying t get back to the story, basically I got a new job and I’m about to go back to school and I just hope I can be here more again but man its so hard and also I get very sidetracked as well. But I feel very happy to say that I have wrote a new chapter and I hope you all enjoy this new chapter. Again thank you all for who have been here since the beginning I really appreciate the follows, the likes, and also for all of you who want to continue reading this story. But again thank you all for sticking around and as always please enjoy.

WARNING 18+ ONLY!!!: Mentions of Torture, Graphic Blood, Some Cussing, Mentions of Prostitution, Mentions of Malnutrition, Abuse, and some Devastations(Alfie wanting Jovonka back)

****

Jovonka all curled up on top of the filthy bed in a fetal position crying for what felt like the thousandth time since her arrival at what she now discovered was a prison of a never ending hell. Her dried bloody wrists never have been once medicated by no one. Her hair that once was long and pure is gone and what's left of it only ends around her neck. But more gruesomely was her skin from her back marked by heavy red scars criss crossing from one way to the other. Reminding her of how many different men as well as Sabini would come to lash on her for their sick pleasures or more specifically whenever the Italian monster had to take some steam out he would take it out on Jovonka. There was nothing safe about this place it was only filled with torture, pain, the smell of death, and being used as a piece of meat for pleasure or a play thing. She hasn’t seen a single ray of sun for what she felt like in years. The only light she was provided with was an electric light above the basement and a couple of white candles to keep herself warm but it wasn’t enough. Food was served cold to Jovonka once the day was over with a small cup of water that had a bitter aftertaste. However that wasn’t the worst that she had to go through and there was a bigger problem than just her well being. Jovonka slowly placed a gentle hand above her stomach where a round visible bump was shown. She knew from the start Jovonka felt many changes throughout her body feeling the worst back pains of her life. Jovonka deeply wished for Alfie to be next to her and give the warmest hugs and comforting words telling her that she will be alright. But that will never be such an experience for her to witness. As for Sabini he became enraged and repulsed when noticing her stomach growing little by little. He would verbally and physically punish Jovonka for having an abomination inside of her. Obligating her to tell him what kind of man would let someone’s seed plant inside of her. Jovonka with all of her strength and taking in the agonizing pain never said a word to the Italian devil. She didn’t want him to know who the real father of the child was and it was only her and Isabel to only know..

“You. Once that thing inside of you is finally born you will get rid of and throw it into the streets. Do I make myself clear, you slut?” 

Besides dealing with hundreds of beatings, whips, starvation, and so on she hasn’t seen her older sister or even Edna since the day they were taken into the brothel house. It worried her very much not wanting to imagine what horrid things they also are experiencing. The one person that really didn’t bother to come to see her or even Isabel for once was Novel. It turns out from what Sabini had told her he has joined the Italian gang and in exchange gave him his freedom and having whatever he desires. Jovonka didn’t want to believe in such a thing knowing Sabini could be a lying snake. But sadly it was all true devastated to know that her once loving and trustworthy friend would turn his back on her and everyone that cared for him. How could Novel betray them like this? All because he had so much anger towards Alfie which he did nothing but give the young boy and the girls a home and safety. But I guess it wasn’t enough for Novel to be thankful for. A clunking sound of the door was heard above the stairs knowing who it was already. But she didn’t expect to see someone she has been thinking about for so long. The sound of footsteps made their way down while Jovanka didn’t bother to see who it was. Then one of the men named Albert spoke up telling the unknown person that they had a limited time to talk with her.

“You have 5 minutes to speak with her and nothing more, now make it quick,” he commanded, giving Isabel a push which she just brushed it off. 

While he made his way up the stairs again and hearing the door close shut, Jovonka slowly turned to look behind her. A relief spread throughout her face, happy to see a familiar face that she’s been waiting for so long until now.

“Is… Isabel is it… really you?” Jovonka said between pauses trying her best to hoist herself up with her right arm but was very weak. 

“Darling, what have they done to you?” Isabel, in a shocking state, sat on her knees and helped her little sister to sit up while she went on, “here now don’t move too much or you’ll hurt yourself more. Oh Jovonka… that bastard will pay for all of this.”

Isabel hugged her tightly in her arms crying her eyes out while Jovonka with little motion in her face returned the gesture back. She felt her sister's chin resting on top of her head caressing Jovonka’s short hair gently.  Wiping a bit of tears away she looked at her little sister softly grabbing her face with her hands seeing how hollow her eyes looked as if she was a living corpse. 

“Isabel… I’m so happy to see you… I thought you were gone,” Jovonka said, resting her hands above Isabel’s arms.

“No, no I’m still here my dear sister, I’ve feared all this time that you’ve been long gone thinking if they took you away somewhere else or have sold you to the streets after that night we were separated. But I’ve never thought that he had you locked up down here and… torture you like this,” she said in a whimper looking all over her sisters cold exposed body covered in bruises dried blood everything.

But what first caught Isabel’s eyes was Jovonka’s round stomach knowing that there was a baby now growing inside. Fearing that her visions were true all along. 

“I did as well sister… I thought they took you far away…thinking you were also sold off to someone. But thank heavens… you're here,” Jovonka said, giving off a small weak smile to her older sister making Isabel look up at her eyes

Jovonka noticed that her older sister's hair was different, all cut short like hers but more curly and fancy. Also seeing Isabel wearing a very satin clean dark green dress exposing her sharp shoulders. Seeing a bit of small purple bruises around her arms and chest knowing that she has been beaten abusively. 

“Jovonka I don’t have much time left but what I'm really here for is that I have to tell you something. I’ve had a few visions these past months and it was all about you. I saw you carrying the child in your arms but you both were covered in blood. It worried me that it was a sign that you were both dead but after that the visions stopped. And that is why I demanded Sabini to see if you were alive. He refused at first thinking that I was doing something foolish and thinking I would try to hypnotize him. I had to know and… I had to make a deal with him.”

“What… Why did you do that sister?” Jovonka said not liking where this was going.

“I had no other choice,” Isabel said, letting out a small sigh wiping her tears away with both of her hands as she continued, “I came to an agreement with him that I would be bought off by anyone no matter what they want. And if I refuse to do the services then he… he would kill me. I had no other choice Jovonka I did it because I wanted to see you. And now I am here with you.” 

Jovonka couldn’t believe what she had just heard coming out from her own flesh and blood.

This is all a dream… is it not?

“Isabel… n-no… how could you do this to yourself? Just so you can come and see me… and let strangers do…do horrendous things to you. Dear sister, I-.”

Suddenly the basement doors clunked open again indicating that Isabel’s time with Jovonka was up. Isabel felt her heart panic not wanting to leave her little sister just yet but she had no other choice.

“Jovonka darling, listen to me I will come back to see you again I promise you,” Isabel said cupping her sister's face with her hands but a sudden force fell on her.

Everything felt slow as the oldest sister shut her eyes closed seeing another strange vision. It wasn’t about Jovonka and the baby but of Alfie himself with peculiar men alongside him. While holding weapons as if they were about to go to war until the sound of a gunshot and several screams were heard as the vision came to an erupted stop. Isabel fully opened her eyes widely breathing in and out not noticing Albert standing behind her.

“Times up witch say your goodbyes now,” he said impatiently while Isabel didn’t hear him the first time.

Without saying nothing back and still stunned on what Isabel witnessed trying to understand what the vision meant. 

“I said Times. Up!” Albert exclaimed violently, hoisting her up on her feet by her left arm trying her best to break away from the man’s grip.

“NO. Wait, Jovonka! Please, let me have a few more moments with my sister. Please,” pleadingly cried out Isabel looking back at her sister, seeing her weakingly trying to get on her feet but fell on her knees.

“I said 5 minutes. So now, GET GOING!” yelled out the guard tugging on Isabel’s hand leading her back upstairs.

“N...no, sister,” Jovonka tried to call out but her voice was low and weak.

Isabel looked back once more, her eyes forming with water seeing her little sister vulnerable and in such a terrible shape. Once she and Albert made it to the top of the stairs Isabel was shoved to the side while the guard closed the door behind them. 

“Can’t you see how weak and sick she looks? Why hasn’t  Sabini called a doctor, how dare you all,” yelled out Isabel as a long stream of tears rolled down on her cheeks letting a few wails out as she fell on her knees on the wooden floor.

Albert ignored the crying woman walking past by her, not having time to hear the woman’s sorrows. Other onlookers didn’t say anything while they saw Isabel cry, not bothering to go and comfort her. Though there was one within the crowd that came to her side.

“Isabel, oh my child,” said the old maid, Edna gently putting her hands on top of her shoulders trying to calm her down, “What happened to Jovonka? Is she alright?”

“She looks dreadful Edna, so terribly awful I tell you. She’s like a living corpse that hasn’t been fed for days, never has once been outside for months, no water or food… oh gods Edna. We have to get the hell out of this place, this can’t go any further especially that Jovonka has a child. 

Edna’s eyes then grew in shock when she heard that Jovonka had a baby growing inside her stomach, not wanting to imagine the things that Sabini would do once the baby was born. Knowing full well that he wants to throw it away like it's not a living human being. 

“Isabel, that’s… that can’t be, we have to get you girls out of here as quickly as possible before the baby arrives. Who knows what Sabini will do once Jovonka gives birth to the little baby, and I know for sure he wants the baby disposed of.”

“I know Edna, but I saw a new vision when I touched Jovonka’s face, and it wasn’t about her this time. It was Alfie… I think… he’s still alive but he is not alone as I saw him,” Isabel said looking at the old woman, her eyes red from all of the crying.

Edna gave a confused look at the young woman not understanding what Isabel was saying. 

“My dear, what are you on about? But Alfie is gone, we saw him get killed in front of us but it’s impossible that he is still out there,” Edna said, trying to lower her voice not wanting any of Sabini’s men to hear their conversation.

Isabel slowly got on her feet while Edna looked around while Isabel walked her way down the small red hallways while Edna followed behind her making their way to a more private area. They passed through many rooms that were mostly occupied by both sex workers and male customers doing whatever they were doing behind closed doors. They then found one room not being used and Edna and Isabel made their way inside, closing the door gently being. 

“Tell me more about Alfie and what else did you see in this new vision of yours?” Edna said, sitting down on the soft queen sized bed waiting for Isabel to continue on.

“It was all quick, but I did get a glimpse of his face, it was really him but he had company with him. Some group of men that were wearing elegant suits, with peaky caps, and weapons like they were going to the battlefields. And there were sudden screams and a gunshot that was heard and that’s where it stopped Edna… I think Alfie is coming to rescue us. I think this is what the vision is maybe telling us, but the question is when will that day come?”

Edna stayed quiet when this was all being said, sensing some faith that Alfie is alive and will be coming for them with some help from these new strangers. Not knowing if these will new Allie’s to Alfie and if they were trustworthy to him. Only time will tell and at the moment they have to wait and see what really they should be thinking of is Jovonka who they need to look after. Especially now that Edna knows that Jovonka’s child will at no time be born too soon or later. 

“We have to speak with Sabini about your sister not being in good health and must be fed properly for both her and the baby’s well being. That bastard devil, how I would like to just place my hands around that abominable neck and choke him to death. He will pay for his sins Isabel knowing now that Mr. Solomon’s is out for not only us but for Sabini. Knowing what he has done to his beloved Jovonka, Sabini will face his judgment day and it will be a painful one,” Edna coldly said, to which Isabel agreed with the old woman completely.

“Alfie will get his revenge from Sabini, we will all see that. That bastard will pay for everything that he has done to all of us. All the pain he inflicted on us all and I will speak with him even if I have to get hurt physically knowing he has to hear what I want for my sister and her baby. He’ll have to obey my orders even if he won’t like it,” Isabel then said, feeling her hands turn into hard fists really wanting to hurt Sabini with all of her anger she has been building inside of her. 

“Darling, I know you have a lot of anger towards that devil, but I worry for you. I don't want either you or your sister to get hurt. I know you will sacrifice anything for Jovonka’s sake but I also want you to not be physically unwell. But please just be careful and whatever that wop says and he will refuse your requests but you will force him to make your requests come true, yes?” Edna said finally grabbing both of Isabel's hands bore her’s and nodded her head in agreement.

You will pay for this Sabini… as well as your dogs… none of you will be safe for what will come for you all…

****

 Arrow House, Warwickshire 

“Any trace of my beloved this time Tommy? I hope your people got something this time mate before I lose me fucking mind,” Alfie said in a bothered manner looking out at the big windows overseeing the big grass field in front of him as he continued tapping his left foot for the millionth time.

Thomas said nothing for a while knowing well enough what he would say the same answer to Alfie since the search for Jovonka started on the first day. He has done everything they did in a search party, going through other areas within Birmingham, asking Johnny Dog for any reports but they will always return with empty hands, Arthur, John, and the youngest Shelby brother Finn were busy getting answers out from Mason as much as they could. Even if it meant to punch, kick, and use tools on him that has been going on for weeks and months. Agony after agony Mason had some strength in him knowing he had lost so much blood from his fingernails, his right eye becoming blacker than it previously was before, his lips turned purple and puffy like a balloon. He could almost move his lips when he tried to speak pleading for the Shelby brothers to let him go and he won't say a thing. But even if he would say those words over and over there won't be a chance for him to get out of their restraints. And so while everyone that Thomas knew about and hired some people he knew and can be trusted did their part on this mission he knew Alfie would be growing more impatiently, angry, frustrated, and most of all he worried for his friend's sanity. Fearing that Alfie could lose it at any time if he didn’t get his beloved back in time seeing how important she is to him. 

Tommy didn’t say anything as he filled a glass cup full of whiskey while having a lit cigarette between his thin lips knowing what he'll say next won’t go so well. 

“Your silence speaks very loudly and it tells me that it does mean that your boys haven’t gotten any luck again hmm?” Alfie said taking a small inhale breath through his nostrils knowing fully well he has to hear the same words once more.

“Alfie, we are doing everything we can to find your woman. Arthur, John, Finn, and myself have tried to take as much information as we can out from Mason, but he has been refusing to tell us more on where they have taken Jovonka and her sister. I know this upset yo-.”

Alfie, using his cane as support, suddenly knocked out a tray of leftover food he ate earlier in the day with shattered glass spreading throughout the floor. Tommy didn’t flinch or be bothered by his friend's actions for one bit, seeing he was used to this type of behavior. The Shelby sat down on one of the couches taking another drag from his cigarette while holding his glass drink with his left hand letting out a small cloud of smoke from his mouth.

“I’m sorry Alfie, truly… I know what you're going through and feeling. If I was in your place, if I lost Grace and Charlie I would’ve lost me head by now and eventually would have killed myself already. Just so this invulnerable pain could go away, but you're stronger than that Alfie I know you are. I will bring her back I promise you, trust me when I say this eh?” Said Thomas looking at the Jewish king as he stood quietly saying nothing for a moment.

Tommy leaned his back against the couch, taking a long sip from his glass of whiskey until finally Alfie spoke out.

“I can’t go on like this Tommy… I need her here close in me arms, that smile of hers, her lips… God. Sabini is goin’ to fucking pay for everything he has done to all of us. The pain he’s inflicting on us all is hard to ignore and to take away, the only way that this can be stopped is him being dead and having my Jovonka and Isabel back to me. That wop you all have been keepin’ captive I would like to have a word with him. Knowing that I can get answers out of his mouth if I’m there in front of his presence.”

“Alfie, don’t you think it’ll be a bit of a risk to be out there seeing that they know by now that Mason and Liam are still missing. And I’m sure that Sabini has sent more of his men to look for them along with orders to still look for Elena. It’s best if you stay here without endangering you and Elena more, we will force Mason to talk about where they took Jovonka an-.”

“No!” Alfie said echoing out abruptly inside Thomas's office room, while giving a sharp glare back as he continued, “I have been stuck inside this house for far too long. And you sitting there tellin’ me to stay put is not goin’ to make me feel more at ease while my Jovonka is still out there with that fuckin’ wop! So no Tommy, I will not take your word and I would rather give up my life away to both Isabel and my woman than me fuckin’ self. Even if it means to get meself killed just to see everyone that I love safe and alive.”

The Shelby said nothing once Alfie finished speaking knowing deep inside his gut he agreed with everything that the Jewish gangster had said. Thomas has risked his life multiple times before, firstly there were his brothers, being there for them whenever they got into risky situations, next of course was Polly, being both an aunt and a mother figure to everyone before and after the war and when Thomas’s mother died. And most importantly of all, was Grace and his son, knowing his father and husband instincts would kick in at any moment if they were put in danger. Knowing he also sacrifice his life first before anyone else just to also see everyone he loves well and alive. 

Alfie walked across the room where he then grabbed a glass cup while he rested his cane against the small brown table stand. He quietly stared at the clear item in his hand as flashes of Jovonka’s smile, that laugh he fell in love with, her eyes that turned bright amber whenever they both became intimate in the bedroom, came into view before his eyes. How he wished he could hear her, touch her, and see her at this moment once more. Alfie then started to tighten his hand around the delicate item, almost to the point of breaking it with all of his strength. But he then relaxed his hand and put the item down on top of the table stand letting out a slow exhale through his thick nostrils.

“I will not stop saying this to you my friend,” Thomas then said, breaking the silence as he went on, “I will bring Jovonka and Isabel back home to you no matter how long the search will take. My brothers and my men are doing everything they can to find any trace of any kind. We will make Mason talk knowing that he’ll have to break at some point in time.”

Alfie didn’t say much once more, he instead grabbed his cane and made his way to sit down on another couch beside the table stand. Letting out a long steady breath looking out at the open green field in front of his view. There then was a knock on the door which Thomas then called out to whoever it was.

“Come in.”

Frances came inside the room, noticing the mess upon the wooden floor which she just ignored.

“Mr. Shelby, I’m sorry to interrupt you but your brothers would like to speak with you. They said it is urgent and important,” she said but before Thomas could speak the door suddenly swung open seeing John, Arthur, and Finn making their way inside.

“Tommy, you have to come back with us to the docks righ’ now. It’s Mason, he escaped from Johnny Dog’s but it is righ’ fuckin’ now,” said Arthur in a desperate tone looking between his brother and Solomon’s.

Tommy’s eyes grew wide in shock as he looked back at Alfie, which he also had a shooked up face knowing that the prisoner was their only hope to find answers about Jovonka and Isabel whereabouts. Without losing a heartbeat, both Shelby and the Jewish King got on their feet in no time making their way out of the office room. While on their way out of the Arrow House, Tommy got his black coat and peaky gray hat while his brothers started the vehicle in no time.

“Frances, tell Grace that I'll be back soon, and make sure to lock every door in the house and do not let anyone in you understand?” He said to the maid that she only nodded her head in agreement, “Righ’ Mr. Solomon's, you stay here for your own safety.”

“No Tommy, I am comin’ alon’ with you mate, there is not chance that I am not goin’ to let that fuckin’ wop get far away. He is the only thin’ that we can get close to Jovonka. Now then, do you want to waste more time here and tellin’ me to stay here like a fuckin’ little boy or should we get on our marry way before it gets any darker?”

Thomas knew there was no way in convincing the Jewish King to stay at the house, to which at this point he knew he lost the battle in this one. Before they could step a foot out of the house, Thomas noticed Little Elena from behind Alfie. The little girl looked on with concern in her eyes, not knowing what was going on in front of her. 

“Alfie, where are you going? Is everything alright?” Elena said, walking her way to Alfie’s side as she heals the man’s large hand against her ‘s.

Alfie carefully knelt down while supporting himself against his cane, which he successfully did and continued on speaking to Elena.

“Yes everything’ is fine my dear, I am just goin’ to go somewhere with Mr. Shelby that is very important. But don’ you worry love, I will come back as soon as possible;e. I promise you,” he said hoping that this will make Little Elena feel less worried but she still kept pushing on.

“Does it have to do with my sisters? Are they found at last?” She questioned with some glimmer of hope in her voice hoping that the nightmare was over.

“My sweet Elena, I promise you that you will see your sisters again and yes it has somethin’ to do with them. But don’t you worry so much about it yea? I will be back soon,” he said, giving a small smile to her while she returned the gesture and gave the man a hug.

From outside, John interrupted this tender moment with the honk of the car making Alfie grumble under his breath.

“Come on then, we are wastin’ fuckin’  time out here!” Shouted out John, getting more bothered by the second if they don’t move out quickly.

“Alfie, we have to go now, I’m sorry Elena excuse my idiot brother for saying a foul word in front of you. Me and Alfie have to go now we will be back soon won't we Mr. Solomon’s?” Thomas said looking back at the Camden Town king agreeing with the Birmingham Shelby.

When they both said their last goodbyes both Alfie and Thomas made their way to the car, sitting on the backseat of the motor car with Arthur and Finn. Once everyone was inside, John turned the vehicle on and made their way quickly to the docks, while Alfie could only hope they would find the escaped prisoner in time.

Hopefully that bastard hasn’t gone far away from here…

****

Once they made it to the docks, all of the Shelbys brothers and Alfie made their way out of the car, feeling furious to hear the news that Mason was let go easily under Johnny Dog’s watch. Knowing he was someone that Tommy has trusted for many years since he has known him. As they walked through the gray pavement road, they found Johnny Dog talking with Charlie with other groups of men knowing they were in a heap of trouble. They also realized that Alfie was with them, seeing that 

“Tommy, I’m so so sorry, we did everything that you have told us to do, but this time I didn’t he would escape in this wa-.”

“How the fuck did you let him out of your sites you bunch of idiots!” Exclaimed Alfie surprising both Tommy and his brothers thinking he is now the leader of all this but they let him continue on, “He was the only key witness into finding my Jovonka and you fuckers let him out of your sites.”

The group of men didn’t speak one word including both Johnny Dog and Charlie already, which they agreed that they did let the prisoner go away that easily. They have been keeping Mason in a very hidden place where no one would hear his painful screams while they would interrogate him for answers. But this time they all made the mistake of keeping more men to look after the Italian member.

“We are very, very, truly sorry Tommy, and mostly to you Mr. Solomon’s. I’m not sure how he managed to get his way out but you have my word when I say this. We will get him back but right now we have to track him down before he gets out of Birmingham,” said Johnny Dog, while Alfie said nothing, still feeling angry towards Tommy’s right hand man.

“Johnny is right, we have to split into groups from here on out,” said Tommy also sounding a bit bothered for what had just happened but he continued on with his next plans, “Right Charlie you take a couple of men to the north side see if you can ask anyone if they have seen Mason, Johnny, you take to the west and do the same and see if there is any traces of home, Arthur, you, John and Finn go to the east and look around to see if also anyone has seen him, and lastly me and Mr. Solomon’s will go deep into the deep forest’s far to the northern side of Birmingham. Keep your eyes sharp and head up, and keep your weapons at bay if you see the prisoner. Try not to aim him straight to the heart, we need him alive, yes?”

Everyone including his brothers nodded their heads as every group scattered to where they were told to go. Johnny Dog and his group of men loaded their weapons, as did Arthur, John, and Finn doing the same. All the while Alfie remained quiet seeing in the gray far distance where the little river canal was connected. He could still remember that terrible night, Jovonka, Isabel, and Edna looking terrified for their lives while he was held back being helpless and weak. The way Sabini touched her face while he cut her face while Jovonka screamed in pain, how he could go back in time and would kill that devil Italian in no time. Alfie closed his eyes trying to take that image away from his mind, while Tommy came to his side making him come back in the present.

“Alfie, are you feelin’ alright?” He said but the Jewish king stayed quiet still looking forward in front of him while the Peaky continued on, “we are about to head out now, before it's late. I suggest we get going. We’ll get him back. I have promised you that and Mason will have to speak, you'll see.”

“I know you have been Tommy, but I have one request and you will have to allow me to do it,” said Alfie making eye contact with the Birmingham king.

“And what is that Alfie?”

“Once that Italian runaway gets captured, let me do the talking. He will refuse to talk to me at first, but I will bring straight hell upon him. I don't care how much he has to live, or how much blood he will bleed out, I’m going to cut every life force he has in him to get the answers that I want him to tell me. And I want your men and your brothers out of it, do we have a deal my friend?” He said Tommy didn’t say anything but only nodded his head in agreement.

Once everyone was fully prepared Johnny Dog and his group left to the west while Charlie and his men left their way to the north, John, Finn, and Arthur made their way to the east, and that left only Tommy and Alfie to which they also left the banks in no time. Once they left the river banks, they were off to find Mason into the deep woods off in the countryside, Alfie only hoped that they would get to Mason as quickly as possible. 

He won’t get away that easily… not on my watch…

****

[lelapine]

Modern Finn/F!OC

I wrote this some time ago, thinking I’d add something more to it before I post... anyway, here’s my take on modern Finn

        There wasn’t much she could do to change the course of the future actions – everything was carefully planned ahead and everyone, no matter if they agreed anymore, had their role and no way out.

         She didn’t like the plan from the beginning, but if she chickened out at any moment, everyone would be inevitably facing various charges – from drug dealing, and assisting murderers to possible terrorism. But that’s what happens when you have a connection to the Patriarch of Shelby’s family – your voice lacks importance.

         Dilay nervously tapped her fingers on her computer mouse, but not enough to make it click in its digital form. Finn, who was sitting across the table, smiled slightly into his cup of tea – he was already too jittery to have more coffee – and without intending to, she had to smile back. He laid his hand on hers and was about to lean in and kiss her – probably, she was never sure what he could do for a bit of a laugh – when both of their phones rang.

         The change in the mood of their table had to be obvious to the whole room – she would swear she felt everyone look at her as she picked up her phone to read the text message she got. After sending a short reply, she looked over at Finn and drew in a deep breath. His usually smooth forehead was wrinkled with the lines of worry and thinking as he nodded to what the person on the other side of the line was saying. With a quick motion of his finger, he directed Dilay to start picking up their things.

         When he ended the call, Finn raised his eyes back to her and picked up the strap of Dilay’s bag. “We have to move. Someone ratted out and raised the alarm.” He murmured as he grabbed her hand in an attempt to look like a pair of students leaving the library in hurry.

         She nodded silently and moved along. As she always did – and as she always would.