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mindful-of-ideas · 2 years ago

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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.

#mindful-of-ideas #peaky blinders #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders fic #thomas shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #finn shelby #ada shelby #esme shelby #reader insert #reader x shelby #ahhhhh my first one shot on the revamp blog hopefully you like it

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briefinquiries · 24 days ago

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Under the Blood Moon | Peaky Blinders | Chapter 22

Tommy Shelby x Reader: Chapter 22

Fic Summary: You came to Birmingham for a fresh start, to bury the past and keep your head down. As a former nurse in the war, you’ve seen enough blood and death to last a lifetime. But fate (and the Shelby’s) have other plans. After stitching Tommy Shelby back together, you find yourself drawn further into their world, a world of violence, loyalty, and power. When Tommy offers you a job, it comes with more than just good pay, it comes with expectations and lines you never planned to cross.

Chapter summary: Chaos unfolds during you and Tommy's reception, in the aftermath, you find some comfort in Small Heath.

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: Violence, injury, mentions of blood, gore, and open wounds, PTSD and war flashbacks, alcohol use, and mild language, mention of torture and vague, nonconsensual sexualization and touch, emetophobia warning

You didn’t even register the direction the gunshots came from– just the chaos that followed. Screams erupted. Glass shattered. Someone dropped a tray with a crash that echoed beneath the chandelier’s sudden sway. The music stopped abruptly, a needle skidding off vinyl, and for a split second, everything stood still.

Then, another shot.

You grabbed Finn without thinking, your instincts moving faster than your mind. He’d been standing just beside the refreshment table, laughing, a slice of cake still in his hand. You yanked him down with you, ducking beneath the table just as chairs clattered and guests scattered.

His eyes were wide, panicked, and you could feel him shaking.

“We’re okay,” you said quickly, your arms around him, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s alright, stay low, don’t move.”

The tablecloth hung around you like a makeshift curtain, dimming the chaos outside.

Finn clutched your arm tightly. “What’s happening?” he whispered, voice cracking.

Above you, another loud bang– a third shot fired, but this one hit the ceiling, plaster raining down. You flinched, shielding Finn instinctively.

And then, through the noise, a voice bellowed across the room:

“A gift from Luca Changretta. Tell Tommy Shelby that his empire bleeds like any other.”

Finn clutched your arm tighter, his breathing shallow and fast. You pulled him in closer beneath the table, your body curled protectively over his, your hand cradling the back of his head to shield him from the falling plaster.

Around you, everything had gone still.

Not silent, there were still gasps and muffled screams, overturned chairs scraping against the floor, glass shattering somewhere across the room, but still in the way that fear locks a room in place, holding everyone in suspended disbelief.

You barely dared to breathe.

Footsteps thundered toward the exit, fast, heavy, purposeful. Then the sharp slam of the doors as the gunmen fled.

Gone, just like that.

No more shots. No more words. Just a trail of fear and smoke left behind in their wake.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as you slowly looked out from beneath the table, your arm still curled tightly around Finn.

Polly’s voice rang out from somewhere across the room, sharp and panicked. Arthur was shouting orders. John’s voice followed, rough and urgent..

You pushed yourself up from the floor slowly, your limbs still shaky with adrenaline. Your hands found Finn first, gently helping him upright. He was pale, eyes wide, shoulders hunched in a way that made him look even younger than he was.

“Finn,” you said softly, brushing plaster dust from his jacket. “Are you alright?”

He nodded too quickly to be convincing. His breath hitched, and you reached for his face, cradling it gently between your palms. His skin was clammy, his cheeks flushed. You wiped a smear of dust from his cheek with your thumb, eyes scanning him for any sign of blood, any wound you might’ve missed in the panic.

“Look at me,” you said, steady but kind. “You’re not hurt?”

“No,” he rasped, shaking his head. “Just… hell– what was that?”

“Just breathe,” you murmured, still holding his face. “You’re alright. You’re alright.”

Your fingers lingered for a second longer, brushing through his hair before pulling him into a quick, fierce hug. He held onto you like a lifeline, his body trembling just slightly.

You heard Tommy before you saw him, the shift in the air, the magnetic pull. His voice was heavy. “Move– move!”

Before you knew it, Tommy was there, storming toward you, eyes scanning wildly– jaw clenched, breathing hard.

His eyes found yours and stopped.

“Fuck–” he breathed, his expression cracking, just for a second. “Are you okay?” His voice was low and sharp, breathless as he reached you, hands already skimming over your arms, your ribs, your waist.

You couldn’t speak. You just nodded your head, slowly.

But he didn’t accept that. One hand cupped the back of your neck, grounding you firmly in place. His touch wasn’t gentle now– it was firm. Urgent.

“Look at me,” he said, voice fierce. “Are you okay?”

Your lips parted, breath shaky. “Yes,” you whispered. “I’m okay.”

He closed his eyes for half a second, like the air had been knocked from him. When they opened again, they were darker, stormier. Rage and relief tangled behind them.

“I told you,” he said, voice hoarse and cracking as his forehead dropped briefly to yours. “I told you to stay put.”

Before you could even respond, he pulled away, his hands falling from your face, jaw clenching as he turned slightly, already scanning the chaos again. You stood there, stunned, the weight of his anger settling heavy in your chest.

You hadn’t meant to anger him. But the shame still twisted in your stomach like a blade.

Suddenly, you felt small fingers clutching at your arm.

Finn had latched onto you without a word, his arms winding around your waist. His face was pressed into your side, his entire body shaking with adrenaline and fear.

You blinked back the sting in your eyes and immediately wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close, cradling the back of his head. “It’s alright,” you whispered, holding him tightly. “You’re alright.”

He didn’t speak, just shook, buried against you, trying to hide the fact that he’d been terrified. You swayed gently with him, murmuring something soft, your hand brushing through his hair, grounding him in the only way you could.

Tommy, meanwhile, had already shifted gears.

His eyes were scanning the room, sharp and calculating, jaw rigid with fury. “John! Arthur!” he barked. A bitter breath hissed from between Tommy’s teeth. “Find out how they got in. Who let them through the doors. Someone knew. Someone fucking knew!”

John nodded tightly, already heading toward the front.

Tommy’s jaw flexed again as he turned back toward Arthur. “And I want names! Every single fucking guest who wasn’t on the list, where they came from, who they came with. Someone vouched for those bastards.”

Arthur’s mouth tightened. “You got it, Tom.”

Tommy ran a hand through his hair, pacing for a second before muttering, “They didn’t want blood… not tonight. They wanted fear.”

His eyes flicked toward you then, still holding Finn, still trying to slow your breathing, your expression dazed and unreadable.

And in that instant, his fury turned razor-sharp again.

“They came into my fucking wedding,” he yelled. “That’s their warning shot? They’re going to regret not pulling the fucking trigger.”

He paced in a tight line, hands clenched into fists at his sides, his breathing sharp and ragged. You’d seen him angry before– cold, calculating, precise. But this… this was something else. This was pure fury. Unfiltered. Barely contained.

“They walked through those doors,” he snapped, whirling around to face Arthur and John as they returned to his side. “They fired shots over our fucking heads– at my family, at my wife!”

His voice cracked on the last word, jaw tightening hard enough to make his cheek twitch. His hand went instinctively to his hip like he needed to reach for something– his gun, maybe, or just a way to release the rage bottled beneath his ribs.

“They wanted to humiliate us,” he growled, eyes dark and wild. “To prove they could get in and out without a scratch. That they could touch us without drawing blood.”

Arthur stepped forward, voice low. “Tom, we’ll find ‘em. You know we will.”

Tommy’s glare cut through the room like a blade. “Not good enough,” he snapped. “I don’t want their names. I want their fucking heads.”

You flinched slightly at the venom in his tone, but Finn still clung to your side, and your instinct to protect him kept you grounded.

“They made a spectacle,” Tommy continued, turning toward the ruined tables, the chandelier still swaying faintly overhead. “A statement. They want war? Fine.”

His voice dropped to a growl– cold, merciless. “Then we’ll give them war.”

Arthur nodded grimly, but John exchanged a glance with him, uneasy. Polly hovered nearby, watching Tommy with that sharp, calculating stare of hers, as if measuring how far gone he really was.

And then beside you, Finn let out a soft sound– not quite a whimper, but close. His hands were still clutching the edge of your dress where he’d held on during the gunfire, his knuckles white. He was staring at the floor now, eyes unfocused, jaw tight, like he was trying to swallow whatever panic was still clawing its way through his chest.

“Finn?” you asked softly.

He didn’t answer at first. Just kept shaking his head like he was trying to make the memory disappear. His breathing had gone shallow again.

“Hey.” You crouched a little, meeting his eyes, brushing his fringe back gently. “You’re alright, Finn. It’s over now.”

He nodded, too quickly, too forcefully, and then abruptly turned to the side and vomited into the corner.

Polly immediately stepped toward him, but you raised a hand gently. “I’ve got him.”

The sound of Tommy’s voice barking another order behind you made Finn flinch visibly. That was it. Your chest clenched, protective instinct kicking in fully now.

“Come on, love,” you said, steady and soft, already slipping an arm around his shoulders. “Let’s get some air.”

But before you could take a full step, a firm hand caught your arm.

“You can’t go outside,” Tommy said sharply, eyes flashing.

You blinked at him, stunned. “He needs air, Tommy. He’s shaking.”

Tommy’s jaw clenched. “It’s not safe out there. Not yet.”

“He’s going to pass out if he stays in here,” you snapped.

Without missing a beat, Tommy waved two of his men forward with a curt gesture. “Go with them,” he barked. Then his eyes flicked back to you, sharp and unreadable. “Don’t go past the gate. And this time, do what you’re fucking told, please.”

You stared at him, nostrils flaring, heat rising behind your eyes. It wasn’t just the words, it was the tone, the way he said it like you were one of the men under his command instead of his wife, who’d just been dragged through chaos on her own wedding day.

Your lips parted, ready to spit something back, but instead you just wrenched your arm from his grip, your jaw tight.

You turned your back on him and led Finn away, your hand steady at his back. The weight of Tommy’s stare burned between your shoulder blades, but you didn’t look back.

Finn didn’t protest. He let you guide him away, his legs a bit unsteady beneath him. You led him down the corridor and out through the side door into the cool night air, the chaos muffled now behind stone walls and heavy doors. The moment you stepped outside, you felt him exhale, just a shaky breath, but a little steadier than before.

You didn’t say anything at first. Just sat with him on the edge of the steps, rubbing slow circles on his back.

“I thought they were going to kill us,” Finn said quietly after a long pause.

You swallowed the knot in your throat. “I know.”

You sat in silence for a long moment– just the two of you under the stars, the distant pulse of music and shouting still echoing faintly behind you. But out here, for just a little while, you could breathe.

The night air was sharp against your skin, cutting through the lingering adrenaline still humming in your veins. Your heart hadn’t fully settled yet, and Finn was still tense beneath your arm, shoulders hunched forward like he was trying to make himself smaller.

You rubbed a slow, steady hand across his back, letting the silence stretch between you like a blanket. You didn’t need to fill it. Not yet.

“I’m sorry I threw up,” Finn said after a while, voice barely above a whisper.

Your hand stilled for a second, then resumed its rhythm. “It’s okay, Finn. You don’t need to apologize for that.”

A few more minutes passed in stillness, broken only by the distant crack of glass, another door swinging open somewhere inside, a voice shouting orders. The tension of the evening hadn’t fully lifted, not even out here.

You weren’t sure how long you sat like that, just holding him steady, when the door creaked open again behind you.

You turned.

Polly stepped into the dim light of the courtyard, her silhouette sharp against the warm glow from the reception hall. Her heels clicked softly on the stone, but there was no urgency in her steps, just the same quiet gravity she always carried like a second skin.

She stopped a few paces away, her eyes scanning you both. Her gaze softened when it landed on Finn. She crouched down beside him then, resting a hand lightly on his knee. “You alright, love?”

“I’m okay,” he lied.

Polly nodded once, glancing between you and Finn again. “Arthur’s still inside trying to calm people down. Tommy’s… doing what Tommy does.”

You swallowed and gave her a faint nod of thanks.

There was a long pause before you spoke again, your voice low, tired. “When can we go home?”

Polly looked at you for a moment, really looked. Not just at your face, but the slump in your shoulders, the way your hand still gripped Finn’s sleeve like you couldn’t quite let go of the fear yet.

“Soon,” she said gently. “They need to be sure it’s safe first.”

You nodded, but it didn’t ease the restlessness curling in your chest. You were still in your wedding dress. Your hands still smelled faintly of gunpowder and champagne. And your heart hadn’t stopped racing since the first shot rang out.

You could feel the pressure building behind your eyes, that familiar sting threatening to break through. You blinked hard, jaw clenched tight, willing the tears not to come.

Polly stepped closer, brushing a bit of hair from your face in a rare, tender gesture. “You’re alright, sweetheart. You’re alright. You just need to breathe.”

You tried, but it caught in your throat.

“I didn’t even see it coming,” you whispered. “It was supposed to be– just for one day–”

“I know.” Her voice softened again, more mother than matriarch now.

You didn’t have the energy to say anything else. You just glanced down at Finn, who was quiet now, staring out at the street like it might tell him something the rest of you couldn’t.

Polly’s hand touched your arm again, firmer this time. “You’re safe now. We’ll get you home soon.”

You nodded once more, but the weight of the evening settled heavy in your bones. You didn’t feel safe. Not yet. Not really.

Polly returned inside, but you stayed there in silence, shoulders tense beneath the weight of your dress, heart still pounding against your ribs like it hadn’t quite caught up to the fact that the threat was over. You kept your eyes on the door, waiting for it to open again. Hoping it would be him this time.

Finn sat quietly beside you, hands clasped in his lap, gaze fixed on the darkened garden path ahead. He hadn’t said anything else, but he leaned into your side slightly, like your presence was the only thing keeping him from unraveling completely.

Minutes passed. Then, finally, the door creaked open behind you. Footsteps on the gravel.

Tommy’s figure cut through the dim light like a shadow cast from something solid and unshakable, but there was a new heaviness in his expression, tighter around the eyes, jaw still clenched hard. His tie was crooked now, shirt undone at the collar, blood still flecked faintly at his temple. But his gaze was on you.

“Come on,” he murmured, one hand in his pocket, the other beckoning you gently. “Let’s go.”

You nodded and turned to Finn, brushing your hand gently against his shoulder. “Come on, love,” you said quietly. “Let’s get up.”

He nodded, a little dazed, letting you help him to his feet. He leaned on you more than he probably realized, but you didn’t mind. Your arm stayed steady beneath his.

Tommy reached for him then, his hand landing firm on Finn’s other shoulder, steadying him silently. His other hand reached for yours without a word, fingers curling around yours with quiet purpose.

You glanced down at your joined hands, his fingers warm and certain around yours. The earlier anger– the sting of him snapping at you, the way he’d barked and shut you out, had dissolved somewhere in the chaos. You couldn’t even pinpoint the moment it left you, only that now, standing here beside him, all you could feel was the dull throb of exhaustion and the steady comfort of his touch.

Because whatever his temper had been, whatever sharpness had cut through his voice… you knew it had come from fear.

And now, there was only this, his hand in yours, grounding you again. The way it always did.

Tommy gave your hand a small, silent squeeze, his eyes flicking to yours for a brief second, just long enough to say everything he hadn’t said earlier.

Then, together, the three of you moved toward the car. Slowly, quietly. Away from the wreckage. Toward whatever peace the night could still offer.

The car ride home was quiet.

No one said it out loud, but there was a silent agreement between all of you, not to scatter off into separate homes, not to retreat behind closed doors where the silence could swallow you whole. Instead, everyone returned to the Small Heath house. It felt safer that way. Closer. Warmer, somehow, even beneath the weight of what had just happened.

You weren’t sure if it was instinct or desperation that led to it, but no one argued. No one left.

Polly took up residence in her usual armchair, a cigarette already between her fingers. Ada curled up on the couch, shoes kicked off, eyes tired but still sharp. Arthur poured drinks, heavily, and John paced the hallway like a restless dog while Esme tried to convince him to sit down. The house was buzzing beneath the quiet, like everyone was trying to act normal, but every small noise made someone flinch. Every knock, every footstep.

You glanced at Finn, he hadn’t said much since the ride. He hadn’t let go of your hand either. Now, he sat slumped in the corner of the settee, shoulders curled in, eyes wide and unfocused. His plate of untouched food sat cooling beside him, forgotten.

Your heart cracked a little at the sight of him.

You moved toward him quietly and lowered yourself beside him. “You alright?” you asked gently, though you already knew the answer.

He nodded quickly, but it was automatic, hollow. His lip trembled.

“Why don’t you head to bed, love? Get some rest?”

He shook his head before you even finished the sentence.

“I don’t wanna be alone,” Finn mumbled, voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart clenched. You reached out, brushing your hand through his hair.

“Alright,” you said softly. “Then stay here with me a while.”

His shoulders eased just a little at that, like the weight pressing into him had lifted, only slightly, but enough.

Minutes passed, slow and heavy. You could hear Arthur and John’s low voices from the kitchen, the clink of glass, the occasional muttered curse. Somewhere down the hall, Tommy’s voice rumbled, low, clipped, issuing orders through the telephone. Polly’s lighter flicked in rhythm from her seat across the room, a steady little flame to match the storm still flickering behind her eyes.

Eventually, you felt Finn’s breathing slow. His body slackened slightly against yours, the last of his adrenaline fading into exhaustion. He was asleep– finally.

You stayed with him anyway, stroking his hair gently, letting your own head rest back against the cushion behind you.

Your eyes drifted closed for a moment, but your mind didn’t quiet. It circled endlessly around the night, around the chaos, around the gunfire echoing behind your ribs. The blood. The fear.

You exhaled slowly through your nose.

The door creaked open, and you turned slightly at the sound.

John stepped into the room, his gaze landing on Finn curled up beside you. He let out a low sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Poor kid,” he muttered.

You nodded quietly, brushing your hand once more through Finn’s hair before glancing up at John. “He finally fell asleep.”

John stepped closer, his voice softer now. “I’ll take him upstairs.”

You hesitated, just for a second– some part of you reluctant to let Finn go. But John’s expression was kind, steady. And maybe you needed a moment to breathe.

“Alright,” you said gently, carefully easing yourself away from Finn.

John nodded. “I’ve got him.”

You watched as he crouched down and scooped Finn up in his arms with practiced ease. The younger boy stirred only faintly, murmuring something incoherent before settling again against John’s shoulder.

You followed behind them to the doorway, pausing just at the threshold. Your eyes drifted toward the sitting room, where the low hum of voices carried down the hallway– Tommy, Arthur, and Polly, deep in discussion.

You could see them through the doorway: Polly pacing slowly, a cigarette burning between her fingers; Arthur slouched forward, elbows on his knees, face tense; and Tommy, standing tall, arms folded tightly across his chest as he spoke in that low, unreadable tone he always used when trying to mask the storm brewing beneath the surface.

You watched him for a moment longer, his words indistinct but his posture unmistakably rigid. Earlier, at the reception, he'd mentioned revenge. War. Against whoever it was that had caused all of this.

A message from Luca Changretta.

You didn’t know who that was, not really. Only that whoever it was, was bound to cause you all a world of trouble.

Your fingers curled slightly at your sides. You thought, for a moment, about walking in, about catching Tommy’s eye, about pulling him away just for a moment. But he didn’t look up. He didn’t even seem to notice you standing there.

The weight of it settled in your chest again. You were too tired to find out more. Too drained to dig into the shadows gathering around the edges of your wedding night.

So instead, you turned quietly and followed behind John and Finn up the stairs, your footsteps soft on the floorboards.

Whatever that conversation was, whatever came next, it could wait. Tonight had taken enough from you already.

You followed John into Finn’s room, the quiet creak of the door barely audible over the sound of Finn’s soft breathing. The room was dim, only the low flicker of a lamp casting a warm glow across the walls. John moved carefully, easing Finn down onto the bed with practiced gentleness, adjusting the blanket around his shoulders as he settled.

You lingered by the doorway for a moment, then stepped in fully, moving to the chair in the corner. It was old, the cushion a little worn, but it cradled your tired body easily as you sank into it with a quiet exhale.

John glanced over at you, his brow furrowed slightly. “You alright?” he asked, his voice low.

You nodded once, giving him a small, tired smile. “Yeah. I just… want to stay with him for a bit.”

He studied you for a moment, then gave a single, quiet nod. “Alright,” he said simply. “Shout if you need anything.”

You nodded again, watching as he turned and stepped out, pulling the door mostly closed behind him.

The room fell into stillness again. Just you and Finn.

You leaned back into the chair, gaze drifting toward him. His face looked softer in sleep– no longer clouded with fear or tension, just the slow, steady rhythm of rest. You swallowed against the lump forming in your throat and folded your arms across your chest, letting the quiet settle around you.

Your eyelids drifted lower.

You didn’t mean to fall asleep.

But your body had finally reached its limit, and before you realized it, the blur of candlelight and the soft rhythm of Finn’s breathing had lulled you into a quiet, dreamless sleep.

It was the quiet sound of your name that stirred you first, soft, low, spoken like a secret. Then the gentle sweep of fingers through your hair, brushing lightly behind your ear.

Your lashes fluttered, the warmth of his voice coaxing you back to the surface. You blinked up at him, disoriented for a moment, the dim room coming slowly back into focus.

He crouched beside you, one hand still lingering at your hairline, the other settling softly on your knee. “You’ll be sore if you stay like that all night,” he said, voice quiet and full of something softer than usual.

You sat up slowly, blinking away the heaviness from your eyes. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you mumbled.

“It’s alright.” His voice was gentle. “Let’s get to bed.”

Your gaze flicked toward the bed, Finn was still curled beneath the blanket, breathing steady and slow. Safe. Asleep.

You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were still holding.

Tommy’s hand slipped down to yours, curling around your fingers. “Come on,” he said again, quieter now.

You nodded and stood slowly, glancing one last time at Finn before letting Tommy guide you out of the room. The hallway was dim, the house quieter now, tension still lingering in the air like smoke, but dulled beneath the weight of exhaustion.

You followed him down the corridor to the same spare room you’d taken care of Tommy in– the one you’d stepped inside a hundred times before, back when things were simpler. The sheets were clean but creased, the window cracked just enough to let the cool night air in. It wasn’t your house on the hill– but it was Small Heath. Familiar. Steady. Home.

Tommy shut the door softly behind you, then moved to pull the blanket back. “You alright?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at you.

You nodded, stepping toward the bed. “I just… didn’t want to leave him alone.”

“I know,” he said.

You slid beneath the covers, the sheets cool against your skin. Tommy followed a beat later, lying beside you with a quiet sigh. His arm found its way around you, pulling you in until your head rested against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounding you like nothing else could.

For a while, neither of you spoke. Just the sound of your breathing, the faint creak of the old house settling around you.

Then his voice, rumbled, low and rough against the top of your head. “I shouldn’t’ve snapped at you.”

You blinked, shifting just enough to glance up at him. His eyes were on the ceiling, jaw tight.

“It’s okay,” you said quietly. “I should’ve listened.”

He shook his head slightly. “You didn’t deserve that. Not tonight.”

You reached up, brushing your fingers lightly along his chest. “You were just trying to protect me. On our wedding night.”

His hand covered yours, warm and steady. “Didn’t exactly turn out how I pictured it,” he murmured with a rueful half-smile.

“How did you picture it?”

Tommy thought for a moment. “I suppose more champagne and dancing. Less… bullets and threats.”

You gave a soft, tired chuckle, resting your forehead against his collarbone. “Well, I am a Shelby now,” you said. “I can’t think of a warmer welcome.”

His chest rumbled faintly with a laugh. “I suppose,” he said, tilting his head down and brushing a kiss into your hair. "Mrs. Shelby."

You didn’t reply, just curled in closer, fingers curling loosely into his shirt. The storm outside might still rage, but here, in this small stretch of warmth and safety, it was just the two of you.

Mr. and Mrs. Shelby.

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#peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x y/n #peaky blinders fanfic #tommy shelby x you #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x reader fanfic

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wastingmylifesecondatatime · 14 days ago

Text

March Update - 2025

NOTE: You can find other masterlists in my mother masterlist (2019-2024), mother masterlist (2025)

I have updated the following masterlists this month:

Actors

Actors - Masterlist

Black Butler

Sebastian Michaelis Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

BTS

OT7 Masterlist - Series

OT7 Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Kim Seokjin - Series

Kim Seokjin Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Jung Hoseok Masterlist - Series

Min Yoongi - Series

Min Yoongi Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Kim Taehyung - Series

Jeon Jungkook - Series

Criminal Minds

BAU Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Aaron Hotchner Masterlist - Series

Aaron Hotchner Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Derek Morgan Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Spencer Reid Masterlist - Series

Spencer Reid Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Joker Masterlist - Series

Joker Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Harry Potter

Credence Barebone Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Marauders Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

James Potter Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Sirius Black Masterlist - Series

Sirius Black Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Remus Lupin Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Regulus Black Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Harry Potter Masterlist - Series

Fred Weasley Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Marvel

Peter Parker - Series

Peter Parker Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Bucky Barnes Masterlist - Series

Bucky Barnes Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Loki Laufeyson Masterlist - Series

Loki Laufeyson Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Avengers Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Tony Stark - Series

Tony Stark Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Steve Rogers Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Sam Wilson Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist - Series

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Bruce Banner Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Druig Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

System Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Peaky Blinders

Shelby Family Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Thomas Shelby Masterlist - Series

Thomas Shelby Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

John Shelby Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Finn Shelby Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Pirates of the Caribbean

Jack Sparrow Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Sandman

Morpheus Masterlist - Series

Morpheus Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Shameless US

Lip Gallagher - One Shots/Drabbles

TVD/TO

Mikealson Family Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist - Series

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Elijah Mikaelson Masterlist - Series

Elijah Mikaelson Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Kol Mikaelson Masterlist - Series

Kol Mikaelson Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Twilight

Cullen Family Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Carlisle Cullen Masterlist - Series

Caius Volturi Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Emmett Cullen Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Alec Volturi Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Felix Volturi Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Demetri Volturi Masterlist - Series

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novashelby · 9 months ago

Text

Why Not Me? - Isaiah One Shot

Pairing: IsaiahxReader(based on Evie...but friendly to all)

Warnings: No Sex, but intimacy. Mostly fluff.

Though it is not a smut, I am adding this to the 100 prompt challenge.

Word Count: 2k

Summary: She just broke up with her boyfriend and Isaiah is there to tell her what's up.

Please enjoy. I appreciate reblogs and comments. Likes are kind and thoughtful, and I appreciate you reading my work. However, reblogs really help writers out. So, please, considering rebloging.

“She’s crying again,” Finn said, rolling his eyes as he exited her room, the sandwich still in his hand. Again was the keyword. Some girls just suck at dating, and unfortunately for her, she was one of them. University didn’t make it any easier despite what her Aunty Ada said. Boys in university are intellectuals. Though, Ada herself didn’t know if she truly believed it. Finn sighed and bit one half of the sandwich before handing the other half to Isaiah, who’d been sitting on the sofa the whole time. “I’ll be back. I just got an errand for Aunt Pol downtown.” Finn swung his jacket on and nodded to his slightly older friend before leaving.

Isaiah put down his tea and turned his back, frowning a bit as he eyed the first door one reaches when climbing up the stairs. Her room. Poor girl spent quite a few days in that room crying. Though partially her fault. Isaiah slid from the couch and made his way up the stairs. Nervously, he hesitated knocking-his fist just hovering over the wood. Clearing his throat, he closed his eyes and knocked. When she didn’t answer, he knocked a bit harder, eyes glancing at the stairs. Through the door, there was a muffled, “Finn, I don’t want the sandwich…just eat it.”

Isaiah scratched his nose and stuttered out, “um-hey, uh…it’s not Finn. It’s me…Isaiah.” Never had he considered himself a nervous man. Women were never a challenge and he was always smooth with his words. But her? Tommy Shelby’s little girl was something else. You had to handle her delicately. There was a slight gap in conversation before she mumbled a wait a minute. For what? Tommy forbade her keeping a lock on her door…she was a sneaky child, a sneaky teenager, and now? A sneaky adult. “Can I just come-oh!” As soon as his hand touched the brass door handle, it turned and opened. His eyes couldn’t help but go to the toes and scale up to her head, skimming over her body. Isaiah felt heat rise to his cheeks. To avoid embarrassment, he looked off to the side. She’d been wearing her white silk bathrobe. Underneath? He doubted it’d be smart to start letting his mind wonder. A pretty girl. Perhaps not conventionally…like the girls he usually chased after. You know? The model type with toned legs and symmetrical physiques.

But she was pretty. The unique type with features that weren’t carbon copies on every other female. Isaiah appreciated that about her. The way she never tried to force herself into any box. As his brain tried to connect the wires, he thought about how her thighs touched even when she walked or how her belly rolled when she sat.

And she never fucking cared. She wore what she wanted, ate what she wanted, talked to who she wanted. Her confidence was unmistakable. That’s why her crying behind her wooden door after some stupid breakup was pathetic. He couldn’t understand it. One boy after the other, and she’d wither away for a few days. Over boys that probably were too weak to lift her against a wall.

“Is there something you need?” she asked, breaking his train of thought.

“W-what?” he blinked. Her brows raised, a grin for the first time that day played on her lips. “Oh, oh! Sorry…um, are you okay? Finn said you were upset about someone-thing…something. Not much, of course. Not that it’s my business or any-”

“I’m fine,” she said, holding her bathrobe together with one hand as she placed her other one on his shoulder. “Thank you, Isaiah. Now, if you don’t mind,” she said, words dragging as she was sliding by him. “I’d like to take a bath.” His eyes followed her as she started to walk down the hall.

“Wait!” He called out her name, and she paused, but didn’t turn. “You don’t deserve that…any of it. And y’know, you don’t talk to me anymore…about anything. Once you went off to university, you just-”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, still not turning to him. Tears were laying heavy on her lids again. At one point when they were kids, the four of them would go off and cause mischief. But Finn was learning the family business, Martha was getting married, Isaiah was working under Tommy, and her? She wanted to study nursing. They were no longer kids. Instead, people with lives. It was a good day if she and Finn even had a conversation. What did she have to say sorry for?

“Explain something to me,” he said, walking towards her. And it was his time to rest his hand on her shoulder. He spoke her name again and slid around her. It was her time to avert her eyes attempting to hide the wetness dripping down her cheeks. But Isaiah didn’t mind any of it. He knew she was crying. Gently, he cupped her face, but when she flinched, he dropped his hands. “What’s changed? Me and you?”

“Something had to have been for it to change,” she said, insinuating nothing had ever happened between her and him. He chuckled for a moment, itching the tip of his nose. “What?”

“It’s funny,” he said.

“I know, you laughed. I’m asking what is funny-”

“You,” he accused. “You’re funny, Miss. Shelby…you used to talk to me. We’d joke and dance. When Finn would fall asleep, it was you and I who’d finish off the whiskey and discuss life’s biggest questions.”

“Times change-”

“You still live at home,” he said. “You still live at home. You go to the local university three days a week. You still frequent the same jazz clubs. You still go to the same parties! For fucks sake, you’re the same person…nothing changes that much in a few months.”

“Isaiah-”

“No.” He shook his head. His hands gently gripped her arms, thumbs caressing her. She felt her body gently be pushed against the wall, head lightly pressing against a wobbly picture frame. She knew which one…the painting of her father’s mother. “You’ll fuck around with Tiny Tim from art class who can’t even bother to got to the door and introduce himself to your father-”

“I don’t need my father’s approval,” she snorted. “I’m grown-”

“You’re eighteen,” he said. “Hardly grown. Plus, you’re a lady under your father’s care. It’s the sensible thing to do-”

“And you introduce yourself to every womens’ father? Especially the ones you fuck on a Friday night and leave the next morning?”

Isaiah went quiet for a moment before saying, “no. I don’t. But that’s different. And don’t ask how because I’m not explaining casual sex to you.”

That’s when she eased herself a bit, laughing lightly. That was the girl he knew. “And you, Mr. Jesus, enjoy casual sex? Why don’t you want to explain it to me, eh?”

He matched her smile, resting his forehead on hers. “Because, Miss. Shelby, casual sex isn’t for ladies. Besides, I think your father would kill me.” She looked down, playing with her hands as she wore a little grin. Isaiah cupped her face, thumbs caressing her lips before moving down to hold her hands. “You are much more than a casual encounter, Miss. Shelby,” he said in a whisper, bringing her hands up to his lips, and kissing them.

“But how do you know I don’t like casual encounters?” she teased, but he wasn’t having it.

“Shhh,” he said. “It’s not like that…you and I, and I refuse to let it be that.”

“And are you my father?” she asked. “Everyone in this family thinks I’m-”

“Don’t,” he stopped her. “You’re deflecting. You knew exactly what I was saying-”

“That you’ll respect me in the morning?”

“Shhhh.” He kissed her cheek, lingering there for a moment before asking, “why not me? Huh? Why Tiny Tim and Stupid Steve and Dumb Danny and Asshole Adam and Prick Peter, but not me? Not idiot Isaiah-”

“I never dated boys with any of those names except a Peter-”

“You’re deflecting again,” he said. “Why not me?” Gently, he grabbed her chin and said, “I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of you unlike Tiny Tim….”

“Who is Tiny Tim?” she laughed, not exactly denying him. In fact, she snaked her arms around his waist and pulled him closer, feeling a sort of comfort in his chest.

“That small fuck you were running around with last week,” he said, lowering his lips against hers. He brushed them against hers, a little smirk spread across his lips. She teased that he was being silly, but soon yelped as she felt him move his hands under her butt and lift her up. To hold herself steady, she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Though he was pretty good about keeping her in place from the way he pressed her against the wall. “So, you didn’t answer me, why not? Why not me, Miss. Shelby? Huh?”

“You never asked,” she grinned, just about pecking his lips. She pecked, but pulled away when he tried to lean in, teasing him. “So, I had to fuck around with Tiny Tim and Stupid Steve-”

“And Dumb Danny,” he added, moving in to kiss her, but she teased him again, biting his bottom lip. When he tried to rest his lips upon hers, she moved away again and kissed his jaw up to his ear, biting his lobe.

“Don’t forget that prick Peter.”

“I want to forget,” he said, bracing her with his body weight and one hand while his other gripped her jaw, bringing her in. “C’mere,” he whispered, pressing his lips against hers. It was soft at first; just a string of pecks that became longer. His hand moved from her jaw and started to caress down her body. Without wanting to intrude, he slowly rested his hand upon her breast; not squeezing, just lightly running his hand along the curve before slipping it under the silk. As he moved it over her soft breast and down, the lacing came undone and the robe slipped down her shoulders. He stopped the string of light pecks and kisses, and asked, “we can stop if you’d like.” Shook her head, enjoying the feeling in her; warmth and excitement. She wasn’t an easy girl…her father made sure of that making sure she knew her worth. That’s probably why so many ‘boys’ left her…she never gave in so easy.

She did him. Or was it really easy when it was something in the making from their youth?

She licked at his bottom lip before nibbling and pulling it. “Shhh,” she said as she took control, sucking and slipping her tongue between his lips, playing with him. Their pecks turned into fully blissful kissing that neither wanted to stop. Air was no longer important, they found as their lips followed each other’s movements. Her fingers tickled up the back of his neck to his hair before tangling in the curls. While his hand moved down her body, dancing over hips and walking over her thighs. Her skin was so soft, sweet, and innocent. He wanted nothing more, but to place a kiss over every inch of her body. For the first time, he felt like fucking was juvenile. It wasn’t about the sex. No. He wanted her close. It was all about the closeness. He wanted her so close to him that he could consume her. That he could just breathe her in and nothing else in the world would matter.

He pulled away, catching his breath, “sorry. Um, I don’t want to rush this.”

“What are we rushing?” she teased, trying to kiss him again, pressing herself against his aching crotch.

“I want to take you to dinner,” he said, letting her down. “I want to do it right. If I’m going to do this right with anyone, it’d be you. So, please, Miss. Shelby, can I take you to dinner?”

“I dunno,” she sang, reaching up and playing with his buttons. “Are you paying?”

He laughed out and shook his head, pinching her chin. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Oh, alright,” she agreed, sliding from him and walking to her room. “But, you have to ask my father.” Isaiah grinned and eyed the phone on the small table downstairs.

“Already on it, Miss. Shelby,” he called out. “What do you think I am? A lousy gangster?”

#peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders #fanfiction #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders oc #ao3 #fanfic #wattpad #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #isaiah jesus #Isaiah Jesus x oc #Isaiah Jesus x reader #Isaiah Jesus fanfiction #original character

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runnning-outof-time · 2 years ago

Note

Dear K, you've been spoiling us haven't you? First with all your incredible worlds you've been sharing the last days and now this celebrations - congratulations 🎉🎉 I hope the joy of writing never leaves you! I would like to request

9. "Forget I ever said that" with Tommy with a sprinkle of tone-surprise on top

I hope you have fun and can't wait to see what you come up with! Xx

Val!! Thank SO much for your incredibly kind words!! You’ve been such a big supporter and dear friend of mine! I added some surprise into this, but I’m not sure if it’s how you wanted. A post I’d seen on here about this possibility came into mind and I decided to write it out. I hope you like it. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Part of my 3.5k celebration — find other stories here!

Good With Horses

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: drinking, smoking, language, brief mention of drug dealing

Word Count: 903

Summary: Tommy lets a secret slip while he and (Y/N) have a chat about his youngest brother.

“I bet Pol’s spoke to ya,” Tommy started as he entered the front sitting room, where (Y/N) was relaxing on one of the couches.

(Y/N)’s brows furrowed at his statement, and she watched him as he walked to where the decanters are shelved so that he could grab one and a glass to bring over to where she was sitting. She doesn’t say anything, just watches as he pours himself a glass of whiskey so that he can immediately tip it back. The huffed groan that left his lips after he set the glass down tells her he’s had a long day.

“About what?” she decides to ask him, her brows still furrowed.

Tommy takes a moment to go about lighting himself a cigarette, and he doesn’t speak until after he’d taken a deep drag. “What Finn’s been up to,” he answered, sitting back against the chair as he finally looked at to her.

“She didn’t say anything to me about that,” (Y/N) shook her head, a bit of confusion present on her face now.

A scoff leaves Tommy’s lips and he shakes his head before voicing his thoughts: “she just about ripped my ear off with it earlier.” Rolling his eyes up to the ceiling before he took another drag from the cigarette.

“What’s he done?” she questioned, wanting to know what was going on.

“He’s been off dealing snow. She said that Moss saw him out with some of the junior Blinders.”

“The Blinders you’ve told him he needs to be a part of?” she raised her eyebrows.

“Yeah, but I haven’t told him that he needs to be out dealing with them,” he clarified, his eyebrows raised as he let his frustration seep through. “He doesn’t need to be dealing…he isn’t one of the fucking foot soldiers.”

“I don’t know what to say, Tommy…”

“I need to find something else for him to do,” he sighed, pressing his fingers to the bridge his nose in hopes to alleviate some of the pressure he was feeling. “I can’t have Pol constantly breathin’ down my neck about it.”

(Y/N) pursed her lips in a thin line as she began thinking of some possibilities that could work for Finn, since it seemed like that was the direction this conversation was heading.

“He can work at the tracks,” she proposed an idea.

“No,” he immediately shot it down.

“Why not?”

“Can’t have him around that side of things. Pol wants him to stay in Birmingham,” he gave the reason.

“He’s just barely sixteen, Tom…what sides of this business should he be able to work around? Maybe it’s not the place for him.”

“He’s gotta stay doing something,” he shot down her idea of having him step away completely. “Needs to be put to work,” he mumbled then, sitting up to rest his elbows on his thighs as he hung his head.

Silence settled around them for a few moments, both being consumed by their thoughts. (Y/N) was the one to speak first: “what if you put him at the yard with Uncle Charlie and Curly?” she suggested, her statement making Tommy look up again. The look of intrigue that flashed in his eyes made her continue. “He could help them with deliveries and also with the horses they have there,” she gave more of an explanation.

“He’ll stick with the horses…I won’t have him messing with the deliveries,” Tommy added his own thoughts to her idea. (Y/N) nodded her head in agreement.

“He’s good with horses, isn’t he?” she asked the question - that should have preceded her suggestion - after wracking her brain and trying to think of any memories that she had of Finn on a horse.

“He’s a Shelby…course he’s good with horses,” he answered, an undertone of pride present in his voice. “He’s a better rider than any of us I think,” he mused after a few moments passed.

(Y/N) couldn’t stop her lips from twisting up into a smile as she heard her husband’s statement. Never did she think that he’d admit the fact that someone in his family could be a better horseman than he was. She was certainly surprised by the admission.

“Hey…” Tommy started, the sound of his voice making (Y/N) look at him again. He took the cigarette out from between his lips and gestured it towards her, his index finger pointing in her direction; his eyebrows raised. “Forget I ever said that,” he insisted, his eyes locked onto hers.

(Y/N) pursed her lips together in hopes that her smile wouldn’t grow any larger, but she was betrayed. A giggle bubbled up passed her lips as she looked down at her lap, hoping that her look of surprise would disappear.

“Eh?” he checked with her when she didn’t respond right away.

She tried to put on as straight a face as possible as she looked up at him again. “I will,” she agreed with a nod.

Tommy nodded in response to her, relaxing back into the chair again. “He’ll work with the horses then,” he settled the matter, his eyes shutting for the first time that day.

The grin reappeared on (Y/N)’s face as she looked over at her relaxing husband. She’d most definitely be telling Polly, Esme, and Ada what he’d just admitted the next time the ladies got together.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @youtifulsunshinelixfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

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#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby blurb #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #k’s 3.5k celebration

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lunarflux · 5 months ago

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x: Thomas Shelby found his match in an information bookie who has eluded the grasp of the Peaky Blinders long enough to crumble their power over Birmingham. But at last, he found you. The ghost he'd been chasing was finally in front of him, but you were trickier than he expected. Dangerous, cunning - and a bit too much like himself. To buy your loyalty, he would have to sell his in equal measure. Loyalty for loyalty - blood for blood - how much were either of you willing to spill before the game changed entirely?

part 13: a red aftermath

word count: 2,363

tag: @bruhidkjustwannaread

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

John carried you into the Garrison, and immediately, Tommy and Finn met you halfway, their eyes landing on the bloodied mess of your figure.

They laid you out on a table in the back room, away from the windows and the smoke-streaked walls. Arthur and John moved with a surprising mixture of urgency and care, stripping your bloodstained coat off and revealing the ugly red wounds just above your hip and below your collar.

Arthur swore under his breath, examining the injury closely. “They shot you good, didn’t they?”

Your managed a weak nod, the effort draining more of what little energy you had left.

John met Tommy’s eyes over your body. “We need to get the bullets out.”

“Christ,” Arthur muttered, moving to fetch whiskey and bandages from behind the bar. “This is a fucking mess. Finn, you need to get home now. You shouldn't be watching this.”

Tommy didn’t look at you, focusing instead on his fingers working the gunshot wound with careful precision. He could feel the heat of your skin under his fingers, the slick, sticky blood, the sharp pain of the bullet pressing against bone. It was a reminder of just how close you’d come to dying tonight. And he hated that it made something twist tight in his chest, a sensation he didn’t want to name.

You hissed through clenched teeth, your eyes darting toward the ceiling. “Tommy—”

His jaw tightened as you grabbed his wrist, your grip teeming with desperation and fear—fear of the pain and of the aftermath. He wanted to ignore you, just enough to focus on the task at hand, but when he looked up, your eyes met his with a silent plea. You weren't ready. No one would ever be ready for death, but right now, you weren't ready for any of it.

"Arthur, get Jimmy over here now," Tommy commanded firmly, and minutes later Arthur returned with the priest at his side.

Tommy helped you sit upright, taking your face into his hands. He spoke to you gently, "He's going to get the bullets out. It's going to hurt. I'm not going to lie to you, y/n, you're going to feel all of it. You've gotta stay still, and let him work."

You hastily nodded, and while you didn't respond, Tommy still felt the desperation in your grip.

Tommy steadied you. He held the back of your neck, bracing his forehead against yours. His eyes locked on you as if silently saying, Look at me. Just me. No one else is here.

Your screams erupted throughout the Garrison as Jimmy pinched at the open wound in your shoulder, but Tommy wouldn't allow you to break free. He watched helplessly as tears streamed down your face, and he prayed that someway he could take the pain and feel it for you. His hand slowly grew numb.

Jimmy dug into the wound until the bullet hit the table.

Arthur shot him a sideways look, muttering, “There's one more.”

The room fell silent. Jimmy reached for the edge of your shirt and whispered just loudly enough for you and Tommy to hear. "We need to take this off."

You shut your eyes tight. Despite the obviously terrible condition you were already in, the last of your defenses were about to be ripped away. You'd be exposed in a way that would never be comfortable or welcome.

As if he heard the discourse in your mind, Tommy tore away from you, looking sharply at John and Arthur.

"We need privacy."

John shot a sharp glance at Arthur. “We'll go back to the shop. See what we can salvage. The boys should have managed the fire by now.”

When Tommy turned back to you, you were struggling to unbutton your shirt with one hand. With tear-stained cheeks, you cried silently. Tommy put his hand on yours, easing it away as he carried out the burden for you. He slipped the garment off your arms and carefully folded it. Once you were exposed, he nodded to Jimmy.

Jimmy took a deep breath. "Sit behind her, and hold her still. You need to keep pressure on the other wound."

Tommy moved, positioning so you could brace yourself against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed his palm firmly on your shoulder. You winced but soon felt the relief in the warmth of his hand.

He held his lips to your temple with his eyes closed as Jimmy worked on you. Every shiver, every whimper and gasp—it molded into his chest. The trembles and the aches—like he was feeling the pain with you.

When it was finally over, you were limp in Tommy's arms. Whether it was from pain or exhaustion, he didn't know, but still, he held you as you drifted off until you were breathing softly against his chest.

The hardest part was cleaning the wound, and he knew better than anyone how that burn lingered long after the bullets were gone.

Jimmy sighed as he leaned forward, elbows propped up against his knees. He held the two bullets in his hands tightly. "She was lucky, Tom. She came really close. The second one nearly missed the lung."

Tommy didn't respond. He just held you while you slept, unwilling to disturb the moment of peace even if it was for relieving news.

He cleared his throat. "I need to take her to Arrow House. Safer there."

"She will need to rest. She needs to heal."

Tommy nodded softly. He stood, carrying you with him with your bloodied jacket draped over your shoulders.

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

The room was dark, save for the faint glow of moonlight seeping through the heavy curtains. You shifted under the covers, a sharp jolt of pain radiating from your side. The breath hitched in you throat, and you bit back a groan.

Your eyes blinked open, adjusting to the dim light. The rich wooden beams overhead and the faint scent of cigars reminded you that this wasn't the Garrison. You didn't remember the drive to Arrow House. The brothers had insisted you stay here to recover—ordered it, more like.

Another stab of pain wracked your side quickly followed by your shoulder, and you let out a low curse. Moving carefully, you forced yourself upright, fingers brushing against the bandages beneath the large shirt that John haphazardly left for you. The room spun slightly, and you steadied yourself against the headboard.

The sound of footsteps outside the door startled you. A faint knock followed before it creaked open, revealing Arthur’s disheveled form. His brow furrowed when he saw you sitting up, clearly in discomfort.

“Could hear you movin’ about from down the hall,” he muttered, stepping inside. “You alright?”

You tried to muster your usual sharpness but found it dulled by exhaustion. “I’m fine, Arthur. Go back to bed.”

“Don’t look like you’re fine,” John chimed in, appearing in the doorway behind his brother. His hair was ruffled, and he wore a skeptical expression.

“I don’t need an audience,” you said, though your voice lacked its usual bite.

Arthur crossed his arms. “You took a bullet, y/n. Actually, you took two. Don’t think you’re walkin’ this one off without us keepin’ an eye on you.”

Before you could protest further, Tommy’s voice cut through the quiet. “That’s enough.”

Both brothers turned as Tommy stepped into the room, his gaze flicking between you. His face was unreadable, but his tone left no room for argument. “Go back to your rooms. I’ll handle it.”

Arthur hesitated, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You sure? She’s lookin’ worse than she did yesterday.”

Tommy shot him a pointed look. “I said I’ll handle it.”

John exchanged a glance with Arthur, then shrugged. “Alright, Tom. We'll be nearby. Doubt we'll be able to go back to sleep anyway.”

With that, the two brothers disappeared down the hall, their footsteps fading into the distance.

You glared at Tommy, though the effect was weakened by the pale sheen of sweat on your forehead. “Come to chide me for my foolishness?”

Tommy ignored your attempt to rile him up, crossing the room to pour a glass of water from the decanter on the nightstand. He held it out to you. “Drink.”

You wanted to argue, but the dryness in your throat answered first. When you took the glass, your fingers brushed his briefly. The cool water was a relief, but it did little to ease the knot of tension building in the room.

“You should be resting,” he said softly, though no less firm.

“I was,” you shot back, setting the empty glass down. “I do not control how a body heals, even less so, my own.”

Tommy sat down in the chair near the window, his movements deliberate. “At least, you're healing. Could be worse.”

“How comforting,” you muttered, leaning back against the pillows. "Good to see your conversation skills don't falter even in the face of a woman freshly debilitated."

You glanced at Tommy, noticing how the dim light softened his sharp features. He looked tired, though you doubted he’d admit it.

“Why are you still here?” you asked finally.

“To make sure you don’t do anything stupid. I'm sure, even in your current state, you'd try to crawl out the window at the first opportunity.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, though it sent a ripple of pain through your nerves. “Am I that predictable?”

“To me, you are.”

His words hung in the air, neither biting nor soft. You didn’t have a retort for once. You let your head fall back and stared up at the ceiling.

“You shouldn’t care,” you said after a moment, your voice low. “About me, I mean. This whole ordeal wasn't about you.”

Tommy leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I could say the same to you. Then again, I could remind you, it's just business.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line. Of course, he would throw your words back at you, but he was only able to do so because it was no longer true. Not that it really ever was.

He stood abruptly, smoothing his hands over his vest. “Get some rest. You’ll need it.”

As he turned to leave, you spoke quietly. “Thank you.”

Tommy paused in the doorway, his hand on the frame. He didn’t look back. The door closed behind him, and you were left alone with the shadows, the aches, and the undeniable realization that you were both too far in to turn back now.

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

The ache in your side dulled to a persistent throb, but it was enough to pull you from sleep once again. You groaned softly, shifting against the pillows as you tried to find a more comfortable position. The clock on the nightstand read just past two in the morning, and the house was silent except for the faint creaking of wood beneath the wind.

This time, you didn’t bother trying to move. The thought of waking anyone—especially Tommy—seemed far less troublesome than an ache. Your breath hitched as the pain struck again. You pushed your face into one of the pillows, hoping the cushion would muffle your swears.

A moment later, the door creaked open.

Tommy watched you for a moment. His face was shadowed in the dim light, but his presence was unmistakable.

“You're still uncomfortable,” he said simply, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

“You’re making a habit of keeping an eye on me when its least wanted,” you mumbled, sinking back into the pillows.

Tommy didn’t reply, instead crossing the room to sit in the chair by the window. His movements were calm, deliberate, as if he’d planned this. You wondered how long he'd been awake or if he'd slept at all. For all you knew, he could have been sitting just outside your door, waiting until he heard you stir.

“You should be resting,” he said, echoing his words from the night before.

“Déjà vu,” you groaned, but there was no real bite in your tone.

Tommy’s gaze flicked to your bandaged side, his expression unreadable. “How bad is it?”

“I'm sure you've been shot at before, so you've heard it all. It’s manageable.”

“That why you’re awake?”

“Why are you awake?”

Tommy leaned back in the chair. “I don’t sleep much. And I wasn't going to let you pretend like you didn't need someone's help. Even if the only help I could offer was my own.”

“You didn’t need to come.”

“I know,” he said quietly.

You didn’t like this, this quiet attention he gave you. It made you feel seen in a way you weren't ready to accept or acknowledge as genuine.

“I don’t like being looked after,” you said finally, voice softer than intended.

“I’ve noticed.”

You couldn’t help the faint smirk that tugged at your lips. “Tommy Shelby, you see right through me.”

He didn’t respond right away, his gaze drifting to the floor for a moment. “You’ve been on your own for a long time. It shows.”

“I manage.”

“Barely."

Your eyes narrowed, but the fight drained from you quickly. You were too tired, too raw to argue. “I was fine before you. I'll be fine after you're long gone. Such is life.”

The words were cold, but the way he stayed, the way he watched you so closely, told you he wouldn't leave even if logic told her there was no reason for him to. The silence fell again, but this time it felt different. Less tense, more fragile. You leaned back against the pillows, you eyelids growing heavier despite the pain.

“You don’t have to stay,” you said softly, voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” Tommy replied, his voice steady.

But he didn’t leave.

Instead, he stayed in the chair by the window, his presence a quiet reassurance in the darkness. You let your eyes close, the sound of his even breathing lulling you into a restless sleep. And though you wouldn’t admit it, the knowledge that he was there, that he cared enough to stay, brought you a comfort you hadn’t felt in years.

#thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby x y/n #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinder fanfic #lunarflux #a game of ghosts lunarflux

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imaginesforeveryone · 10 months ago

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Spunky Bitch

pairing: John Shelby x Y/N Warning: angst, swearing, sassy reader, smut, re-write of an episode (S2E2), baby kink Summary: You being a Blinder, and the right hand women of John Shelby all these years you did business with them a lot. This particular day you were doing things with the Italians, the Changrettas, and you just didn’t like the tone they were giving off.

Stood behind John Shelby, also your husband, in Charlies yard. You watched as Mr. Changretta walked towards you, accompanied by Finn, and his two body guards.

“You asked for a meeting out in the open, fresh air and the fine aroma of shit.” Arthur spoke as Mr. Changretta stood in front of the chair across from John. You let out a small laugh as Arthur spoke.

“Neutral grounds you say.” Arthur speaking again as you let the smile fall off your face and kept an eye on one of the two body guards that stood beside Mr. Changretta.

“This is hardly neutral ground,” He spoke to Arthur for the first time.

“Well, its what you’ve got.” Arthur said sitting on the chair beside John. Taking a step closer to John, and being almost shoulder to shoulder with Finn, but not really shoulder to shoulder at all, because now that kid grew tall.

“So, por favor, sit down.” Arthur spoke motioning Mr. Changretta to sit in the chair. Smiling slightly as you listened to the conversation. Resting a hand on Johns shoulder.

“Where is Thomas?” Mr. Changretta spoke to John.

“He got called away.” John replied back to him, who didn’t sit down as he was told from Arthur.

“He said he’d be here.” He rebuttled.

“and he just told you, Thomas got called away. What do you want?” You spoke up starting to get frustrated with them man. John looking behind himself at you and giving you half grin. He loved the sas you had. Even more when it was you sticking up for him.

“There has been a peace between the Peaky Blinders, and the Changretta family for two years now..” He spoke to John and Arthur. Seeing John smirk over at Arthur at what the man was saying.

“Do you want some tea or not?” John interrupted him. Mr. Changretta just looking at him.

“Here, love, pour the Italians some English tea. Go on.” John said motioning you to pour tea for them. Walking around John as you hand slid across the top of his back to grab the tea pot.

“We don’t want fucking tea.” Mr. Changretta yelled as you grabbed the pot. You looked over at John, who you could tell wanted to get up and shot him right in his head, but you also knew if this meeting didn’t go correctly, it would end bloody. Setting the tea pot back on the table and going back to you previous position behind John.

“We want an explanation.” He spoke to John.

“Well, I’ll have fucking tea.” Arthur said leaning forwards and grabbing the tea pot and making himself a cup of tea.

“An explanation for what?” John asked averting his eyes away from Mr. Changretta.

“The little Venice Restaurant on Forge Street was burnt down…” Mr. Changretta spoke.

“No. No. Couldn’t have been us, we was at a wedding.” John spoke interrupting him for the second time.

“You burnt it down to stop my son being at the same wedding.” Mr. Changretta stated to John.

“EHH, He wasn’t missed.” You spoke up causing John to let out a breathy laugh. Mr. Changretta pushing out a fake laugh.

“You are such big boys now. But once you borrowed clothes from us to look like me.” Mr. Changretta spoke. You were confused a bit by his words. You knew Mrs. Changretta was the boys teacher in school, but didn’t know how close they actually where back then. John adjusting himself in his seat, and looking over at Arthur.

“How’s the tea, Arthur? Is it..” John asked but stopped his sentence as he throw the tea out of the cup. Arthur making a disgusted face at it,

“Its cold.” He said looking up at the body guard to Changretta’s left. John averting his eye back up to Mr. Changretta.

“Please tell Tommy. We pay whatever he asks us to pay. We stay in our part of the city and off the tracks. But you tell him from me.” He spoke but taking a pause getting closer to John. You removed you hand from his shoulder to put your hand on your gun. John putting his hand out to let you know its fine.

“That my son will walk with any women in this city. Anyone he choses. Even if that women works for the emperor, Thomas Shelby.” John grinning at his statement but letting him speak.

“My son is in love.” John starting to snort out a of laughed.

“Sorry. Do excuse me.” He spoke through a bit of laughter, pulling the bill of his hat down to cover his laughing face and rubbing his eyes a bit.

“Carry on.” He spoke after he held in his laughter. Vicente pausing and just staring at John and he composed himself.

“And if he wishes, he will walk with the women he loves.” Vicente finished.

“Okay.” John said out to him, still trying to compose himself a bit.

“You know. It would be hard for your son to walk anywhere.” You spoke up behind John getting quite annoyed with the way Vicente was telling them what his son was going to do. Walking between him and Arthur grabbing the tea pot, and beginning to pour into a cup.

“With a bullet in each knee, wouldn’t it?” John finishing you sentence. Not what you were going to say, but you know now this meeting wasn’t going to go the way it needed to go with the words John spoke. Vicente now standing straight up. You looked over at Arthur who was looking over at John now, knowing that’s not what was needed to be said. John taking a sip from the cup you just put tea in and looking up at the now angry Vicente.

“Too much.” He said pointing a finger at John. Now blood boiling in your veins, you looked around to see what everyone next move was.

“You said too much, my friend.” Vicente said starting to walk.

“Sabini says, ‘suck and swallow.’ but no. Too much. I spit.” Vicente said as he spit on the ground in front of you. With slight giggle exiting everyones mouth. Hearing a chair being broken you looked over at one of the men who stood next to Vicente.

“Oh. Okay. A bit strong.” You spoke out to the man laughing a bit.

“Fucking hell.” John spoke after taking a sip of his tea. Arthur not looking to happy at all.

“Isaiah.” Arthur said to the young Peaky boy stood behind him. Isaiah Leaning over next to Arthur.

“Put two extra men on our pubs in Nechells.” He told him. John looking over at Arthur in confusion.

“What are you talking about, Arthur?” John asked.

“We’re not scared of fucking eye ties anymore.” You told Arthur.

“Don’t tell Tommy about the chair and clean this fucking shit up.” Arthur said to Isaiah ignoring what you and John just said to him. Standing from his seat and looking over at John and you with anger. John looking at him with an expression that said “what the fuck.”

“We’re not scared of fucking wops.” John said to Arthur turning around in his seat.

“Alright John.” Arthur said under his breathe.

“Come on lets get back to the shop.” You told John taping him on the shoulder. He stood up and threw his arm over you shoulder as you guys began to walk to the betting shop. Walking through an alley, John grabbing you by your hips and pushing you up against the wall and attaching his lips to yours.

“It so sexy when you stand up for me like that.” He said through kisses. You smiled and lightly pushed him away.

“How about you show me how sexy it is?” You spoke up at him now with his back against the other walls.

“Later love. We have to get back to the shop.” He said causing a puppy dog face to spread across your face. He just giggled and threw his arm around you again and continued your walk.

“Hey Pol. Can you help me real quick? I barely understand Arthurs writing. I feel like I’m super drunk trying to read them.” You said as you heard Polly walking into the office you and John shared, but she didn’t answer back just kept her eyes locked on John as he had his feet up, sipping tea and reading the newspaper. She then threw her newspaper on his desk. He looked up at her from the corner of his eye and still sipping his tea.

“Did we run Kempton yesterday or not?” He spoke to her breaking the silence and setting his cup down. But still had his eyes fixed on his newspaper.

“Danny Lee got drunk, instead of injecting the horses with cocaine, he decided to share it with his cousins.” She explained talking about the races that were being held at the racetrack the day before. John just closes his eyes trying to regain patiences about the situation and sided softly.

“Jesus Christ.” He spoke out about it.

“Its your brother-in-law. Tell Esme to speak about it.” She spoke back.

“Ex.” You spoke out from the side.

“Maybe be an ex darling but nobody divorces a Shelby. Shelby’s just get married again. I love you like my own kin darling, but I’m sorry to say you are married to a married man, who’s wives family is a big part of this company, and sadly we still need them.” She spoke to you but not looking your way. You sighed softly and sat back in your chair to see where the rest of this conversation was headed.

“look.” Polly spoke going back to the previous conversation.

“Before I start.” She said grabbing a chair and pulling it up to the other side of Johns desk.

“I don’t want you to do a thing about this.” She said then shutting the door. This really peaking your interest, kind of knowing what she was about to talk about.

“About what?"John asked already with annoyance in his voice and face as he took his feet off his desk to face Polly now. You knew what she was about to say was about the Changretta problem.

"Vicente Changretta’s son.” She said before taking a seat. John sitting up with s mile on his face and laughing.

“The one Lizzie was stepping out with.” Polly said.

“What, Angel?” He asked for confirmation of her previous statement.

“He’s no bigger than twopence with of change.” He spoke before letting Polly speak again.

“Well, he heard you threatened him directly to shoot him in his knees and not he’s going around Nechells telling everybody he’s going to kill you.” She spoke. You instantly standing up to begin your joinery to go kill him yourself.

“Sit.” John said. You rolled your eyes sitting down, crossing your legs and your arms. John grabbing a pencil looking as if he was writing something.

“This is Lizzie’s fault to start with, Tommy’s for leaving it up to you.” She told him.

“What are you talking about?” John asked looking up at Polly now with confusion on his face. Polly just look at John with a blank expression.

“We run London. We run the north, we run the whole fucking country. What do we care about some fucking Nechells Green Eyeties?” He spoke seeing him starting to get a little angry as he looked down at his paper again. You stood from you desk and walked over to him and placing your hands on his shoulders hoping to maybe calm him down a bit. You looked at Pol, who just raised an eyebrow, knowing what she said next was probably going to piss him off even more.

“We sent need to be getting involved in all these little piss pots.” Polly said back to John.

“What does Arthur say?” John said with his voice a little calmer. Pol again looking up at you and raising both eyebrows.

“That’s why I’m here and not him. If he said it, there’d be a fight.” Pol said getting ready to tell John what Arthur said.

“He says, apologize.” Pol said. Instantly shooting your eyes to hers then down at John, now lightly massaging his shoulders hoping it will help him from getting angry. He put his had to his face almost with a face of disbelief that Arthur said that.

“He fucking said what?” He said with laugh between words. You knew it wasn’t a good kind of laugh. He went back to scribbling on his paper.

“We own the city. But we dint need to rub everyones noses in it.” Polly said causing John to push his pencil hard into the paper.

“If the old man decided to make a stand, he might get Sabini feeling sentimental..”

“Sabine’s done.” John said interrupting Polly. There was defiantly an awkward silence now in the room as everyone just kind of looked around not making eye contact.

“They’re all done.” Polly said breaking the silence. John putting his fist up to his head and pushing his forehead into it trying to get himself as calm as possible. But, you’ve known John a while and there’s only so much that could be done to keep him calm, so you took your hands away from him and took a step back.

“They all pay up. But we don’t want rebellions.” Polly continued. John now sighing heavily still trying to keep calm.

“What does Tommy say?” He asked in a tone of regret even asking the question.

“Tommy’s busy. He left me in charge.” Polly spoke with a low but direct tone trying to make John understand.

“What do you say?” John asked twirling his finger, fixing his mistake with his eyes closed.

“Compromise.” Polly said sitting back in her chair.

“Mmm-hmm” John said under his breathe with s light smirk on his face.

“I’ve asked Lizzie to do it for you. She’s going to meet him, break up with him for good, apologize for any inconvenience, say it was all her fault”

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE!” John screamed stranding and hitting everything off the table finally losing his cool. You just stood there in silence, waiting to see what would happen next.

“You know what ask this is?” John asked with a slight stutter.

“This is Arthur’s fucking missus.” He said starting to walk back and forth talking about Linda.

“Turn the other fucking cheek? We’ll be handing out bibles in the fucking bull ring with her cousins.” John said leaning over the desk to Polly before turning and grabbing his jacket.

“John, you don’t have to do anything. Lizzie will do it for you.” Polly spoke. You threw your hands in the air, and put them over your face knowing that was going tone make him more mad.

“ Then it’ll all calm down, and nobody will lose face.” Polly said as John walked passed her to the door. You followed behind stopping next to Polly.

“I’ll take his fucking face. How about that?” He said as he opened the door.

“John, do nothing…. ” Polly began but John slamming the door before she could finish. She let out a sigh and looked over at you.

“How do you deal with this?” Polly asked you.

“I’ll try to find him.” You said quickly grabbing your jacket and running out of the office and out the front doors. You saw Johns car driving away. You hoped into yours and followed him. Losing him. few blocks away. You drove in the direction of where the Changretta’s spent most their time. After about 10 minutes you spotted John’s car parked in front of a building. You parked and got out running to the front doors. But before you should open them, John came out. He had sweat on his forehead, and blood on the blade of his cap.

“John. What did you do?” You said backing up a bit. He ignored you and pushed passed.

“JOHN!” You yelled at him.

“Nothing y/n! Leave me alone!” He yelled back before getting into his car and driving away. You threw you hands in the air and sighed out.

“Fucking Shelby’s” You spoke out loud to yourself.

“Where is he?” Polly asked about an hour later as you sat in the kitchen with her and Arthur sipping tea. Tommy stood in the betting shop waiting for John to show. You heard the door close and saw John walk in with his hat in his hand and Finn stood next to him.

“All right, Finn, thanks for coming. Fuck off.” Arthur said as John stood, not making eye contact with anyone in the room. You were quite upset at how he treated you when you saw him. But here is where we’d get all the answers we needed.

“Finn, you can stay.” Tommy said walking into the kitchen, and Finn turning around too come back. Tommy stepping in the doorway.

“Sit down John.” Tommy said leaning up against the doorframe smoking his cigarette.

“Sit down.” He said once again when John didn’t the first time.

“John, you cut Angel Changretta.” Tommy spoke after a bit of silence. You looked over at John who just held his head down and listened.

“Even though Arthur told you to apologize.” Tommy spoke Arthur holding his head up to show that yes he did tell John that.

“Mmm-hmm” Was all John said to that statement.

“Polly told you to compromise.” Tommy continued.

“Mmm-Hmm” John replied again with.

“You chose not to listen to Mr. Apologize, or Mrs. Compromise.” Tommy said pointing his finger at each of them, causing you to sightly grin.

“And now I have an Italian walking around my backyard saying he’s going to kill my brother.” Tommy spoke after a slight pause. Making a fist of your hand.

“Not if he wants to join his son in having no eyes too.” You said quietly, causing everyone to look at you. You held you head down letting Tommy speak.

“So what do we do, John. Do we apologize or do we compromise?” Tommy asked. Seeming as if it was a trick question to you the way this conversation has been going. John sucked on his teeth looking down, and then up at Arthur.

“Oh, it was just something said as a joke.” Arthur spoke for the first time since sitting down. Tommy looking up at him away from John.

“Yeah but he’s your brother as well, Arthur.” He said lifting a hand and speaking with it.

“Yeah. I know I didn’t want to start a war over something John said without meaning it.” Arthur said looking back at Tommy. Tommy had a confused look on his face and looked away.

“So, should he apologize in Italian or in English?” Tommy said looking back at Arthur with slight sarcasm in his voice. Polly looked over at Tommy in disbelief he just said that and Johns eyes finally coming up off the table and looking over at Arthur, Polly and you.

“Or should we ask them which fucking language they prefer?” Tommy asked them. You now understood that Tommy was on John’s side about the decision.

“I’m not clear.” He said looking over at Arthur with anger on his face. Polly turning and moving her body is confusion and like she just had been disrespected in some way.

“You said while this business was going on in London, you wanted peace at home.” Polly spoke to Tommy.

“And the only way to guarantee peace is by making the prospect of war seem hopeless.” Arthur sitting back in his seat more tense than before, and Polly with her hand on him hoping to calm him down a little bit. Polly stared at Tommy with disbelief in her eyes.

“If you apologize once, you do it again and again and again. Like taking brick out of the wall of your fucking house. Do you want to bring the house down Arthur?” Tommy said looking over at Arthur who was still looking away from Tommy and tense as ever. Arthur just grunting back at Tommy’s question.

“If you’re soft on rebellion, it’ll grow.” Tommy spoke. Polly grinning as she picked up her tea again, and Arthur getting up from his seat.

“Bloody 'soft on rebellion.” Arthur said standing up mocking what Tommy said.

“You did the right thing, John.” Tommy spoke looking directly at you now. You could see the lust in his eyes the way he looked at you.

“Now, we go on the offensive. We take two of the Changretta pubs, and we take them tonight. That’s it.” Tommy sad standing straight and now walking all the way into the room.

“oh! Right, for Christ sake, why?” Polly now raising her voice.

“Hey!” Tommy said as he began to walk away.

“WHY!?” Polly yelled back.

“Why? because we fucking can!” Tommy said walking back now and everyone settling back down as he raised his voice.

“Because we fucking can and if we can, we do. And if we lift our heel off their necks now, they’ll come at us. Do you want them to come after your wife John?” He said motioning to you.

“No.” He said in a low growl.

“Remember these are the bastards that wanted Danny Whizz-Band dead.” Thomas said with even more anger in your voice. Remembering back to when Danny was alive. He was a joy to be around when he wasn’t off his rocker. Arthur now pacing in front of the fire place and Tommy just staring at him.

“You’re getting soft, brother. Soft and weak. Save the Bible for Sundays, eh.” Tommy said to Arthur still not taking his eyes off of him and Arthur getting noticeably more angry.

“Finn?” Tommy said still staring at Arthur.

“I need to get to Hockey and then home. It’s been a long day.” Thomas spoke to Finn. Finn getting up and placing his hand on Johns shoulder as he passed him walking passed Tommy probably to go get the car ready to go.

“You take the Wrexham, you take the Five Bells. Arthur on the Wrexham. John and Y/N the Five Bells.” He said giving you guys your orders for the night.

“You get them signed over to us in the morning. You make sure the coppers stay away.” Tommy said to Arthur and Polly, who both now paid no attention to him.

“Don’t use the fucking phone, all right? There’s someone listening.” Tommy said before turning around.

“Oh and John.” Tommy said turning around one more.

“You fuck your wife in the Five Bells to celebrate what you have done.” Thomas said and finally leaving. John sat there in silence as he looked up at Arthur and Polly. Arthur looking at him and walking to him.

“Well done.” He said walking passed John and leaving. John turning to see Arthur leave and all you heard in the room was Polly slurping her tea and staring up at John, making you giggled just a bit. You got up along with John to start heading to do you assigned duties.

As you kicked the last person out of the bar, your felt hands around you turning you around and pushing you up the door.

“Tommy’s order, eh?” John said with a huge smile on his face. You smiled back and attached your lips to his. He lifted you from your feet and onto him. Before sitting you on the bar and ripped it off from the glass that laid on it from prior activities you guys indulged in.

“You want to fuck me Mr. Shelby?” You asked between kisses.

“ I want to do more than fuck you Mrs. Shelby. I want to put a baby in you. Right in this pub.” He said making your eyes go wide.

“Then come on daddy.” You said making him see red. Attacking your neck with his lips making you moan out a bit. He unbuckled his pants and slipped them down around his ankles. Then doing so for you. But not before he ripped open your top to make you breast accessible. Taking your nipple in his mouth and sucking furiously on it, you grabbed the back of his neck for leverage to stay up. His now sweaty hair not slicked bad anymore you yanked it back pulled his face to yours. You reached between you two grabbing his cock in your hand and guiding him inside of you.

“Oh fuck, John.” You moaned out and throwing your head back. As he pumped in and out of you he gripped your shoulder to give him leverage to pound into you.

“John, please don’t stop.” You cried out.

“Why, love?” He asked as he slowed down.

“NO, Please don’t.” You cried out as your grabbed around his torso to pull him into you.

“You want me to put a baby in you? You want to cum all over me?” He said stilled now.

“Yes, please please, making me cum. Put a baby in me.” and with that being said he quickened again, pounding even harder into you than before.

“John, I’m going to cum.” You spoke out with labored breathing.

“Go ahead , love. I’m right there too.” He said as you felt this cock twitch in side of you and he started to get shaky. You came and yelled out. Loud. As you clenched around him, he let out a stream into you. You felt the hot cum just all inside you, making you smile and giggle out. As he pumped a few small strokes and relaxed his muscles into you.

“Fuck. I love you.” He said lifting his head.

“I love you, John Shelby.” You said kissing him.

#john shelby x y/n #john shelby x reader #Joe cole #peaky blinder #imagine #imagines

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sl-newsie · 2 months ago

Text

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 63: A Poor Predicament

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

*Warning: mention of menstrual blood

Watery Lane is still as comfortable as before. I sleep decently, considering that I just saw my past love after five years. Today brings more clouds and a nippy wind that taunts winter’s approach.

Ow. Today also brings another familiar ache inside of me. The time of the month. I slink out of the cozy covers and make my way to the kitchen’s warm fire. The house itself seems to be still empty.

Does anyone else know I’m back? I knew not to expect an enormous welcome nor did I want one. But it would be nice to know where everyone is now. I was hoping Bonnie might be around for a visit-

Thud.

There’s the front door. Who’s-? Uh-oh. Not him.

No. No. Oh no. That spotted red isn’t the fabric of my skirt-

“Blood? What the Hell happened?”

Of course Thomas is the one to pop in! And of course it has to be when my cycle begins.

“Verena, what happened?!” Thomas exclaims and lurches forward to inspect my skirt.

“Thomas, calm down! It’s not an injury-”

“Then how the Hell is there blood all over you?!”

“Thomas!” I step back and hold up a hand to calm him. “It’s my menstruation. I can’t help it. I didn’t catch it in time so it stained the fabric. Do not blame me for my anatomy.”

An ‘a-ha’ look takes over Thomas as he processes my words. He glances down at the blood and back at me.

“Your menstruation…” He repeats slowly. “You’re not on birth control?”

“Why would I be? In America, women need permission from their husbands to have it. And I do not approve of tampering with God’s gift He has given me.” I change to a softer tone. “I’m not injured.”

Believe me, I have felt greater pain than this.

Thomas’ panic is easing off but now he’s looking at me in a new light. Like I’m a prized horse. Or a fragile vase that’s easily broken. So being a virgin off of birth control makes me weak now? So help me I’m about to slap his arrogant face-!

“Do you know what Finn’s been thinking?” Thomas changes the subject, toying with a cigarette. “I talked with him today, like you asked. He was thinking of marriage. Do you know who he once thought of marrying?” He tilts his head at me. “You.”

So he picks up on this now? All this time with all the talk of marriage and pregnancies, he now realizes that I am a worthy bachelorette and will be sought out?

“Yes, we discussed it before on occasion,” I respond evenly. “We think it best to stay friends because it feels natural.” I move over to the sink so I can look away when I ask: “Are you jealous?”

A pause. “How can I be?”

“Because your own broer had the guts to do what you can’t.” Shot fired. “Finn didn’t used to be like the rest of you. He could be compassionate without trying to be tough. I’d say don’t ruin his chance for a good life but that ship has sailed.”

Another long pause. “He… says he wants to marry this new girl. Says she likes the life we’ve got.”

Perfect. Another woman chatting about, ousting me just because my last name is not Shelby.

I take a breath and face Thomas with rebellious determination. “Then that is where God will take him. As you’ve said before, he’s a grown man now. Speaking of grown men, has Michael arrived yet? I assumed he’d be here by now.”

Thomas takes another drag of his cigarette, letting smoke to hover over his face. “You’re right. He took a boat through Belfast. He’s arriving today, and that’s why I’m here.” He points to me. “To tell you that I want you to be at the Garrison for a family meeting.”

Yes, a meeting. I should have expected this. I can’t just skip off to Germany. Lord, everyone’s going to be so on edge. And it means I have to spend more time in the proximity of Thomas. Unfortunately he seems to pick up on my hesitation.

“You’re still employed by Shelby Company Limited, and as your boss I’m ordering you to be there.”

There is no room to argue.

“Fine.” I purse my lips and my eyes narrow. “Is Michael the one to blame for our predicament, then?”

Thomas gives a short grunt. “Yes. Thanks to him, right now we’re losing money. And his attempt at arranging my death won’t go unnoticed either.” He gives me a reassuring nod. “Don’t worry, we will handle him.”

In a fleeting moment of courage I can’t stop myself from speaking. “Having much causes conflict. Maybe this is a hidden message telling you that Shelby Company Limited has grown enough.” I walk past Thomas and give him a quick pat on the shoulder. “My advice? Let God be enough. Not that you still listen to me anyway.”

But even that won’t be good enough for you, will it Thomas? As I leave him to stew on that I head to my room and begin to gather my coat and purse. I also quickly change into a fresh skirt. Damn this menstrual timing. Maybe once this meeting is over then I can take a boat to Amsterdam and begin my way to Oldenburg. Lord knows how Abel’s doing with this. In all the rush of things I still haven’t called him-

“You’re still trying to get me to believe I’m worth something, eh?” Thomas speaks up from down the hall.

I finish buttoning my fox coat and step forward. “It is never too late to walk in faith, Thomas. Faith grows strongest during times of trial. And I can tell that we are going to need all the faith we can muster for this upcoming trial.”

Still being the gentleman he is, Thomas opens the front door and we both head out into the crisp November air. I graciously let the cold wind numb the conflicting emotions clawing at me. Another gleaming Bentley awaits, and when we start driving down the dusty roads Thomas clears his throat.

“Um, happy belated birthday. 27, eh?”

“Yes.”

What else can I say? ‘Yes, Thomas. I’m growing even more older and still haven’t settled.’ ‘Yes, Thomas. I’m practically igniting the rule book of society by staying single.’ No. He does not need any elaboration. He can keep guessing for all I care.

Not much has changed over the years. Same dusty roads, same wanderers looking distantly lost. Right now my mind wants to feel just the same but I cannot let it. We approach the Garrison and I make a silent objective to avoid reattaching myself to this place. There is no use clinging onto old memories and wishing that things have not changed.

“Here we are.”

Thomas parks the Bentley and gets out, starting to round the car. I open my door and step out before he can reach me.

“I am capable, Mr. Shelby.”

Each decline to abide by his first name is another discrete shot. Ones that Thomas tries to ignore but I know better.

“Steenstra!” A familiar voice shouts from behind.

I turn around and my bland face brightens at the sight of the eldest Shelby broer, who’s wearing a very spiffy suit and bowtie.

“Hello, Arthur!” I reply as he grips my shoulder in greeting.

“Tommy!” He gently punches his broer’s shoulder. “You didn’t tell us she’d be coming!”

“She didn’t either,” Thomas mutters, walking on towards the Garrison.

“Unfortunately I have not brought any whiskey,” I inform Arthur, both of us ignoring Thomas’ distant behavior.

“Ah, no problem. We’ve got more than enough. Besides, Polly’s going to be happy to see you.”

The pub’s doors open and I follow behind as the two broers confidently stride in. I turn the corner and am greeted by who else? Polly.

“Verena, dear!” Her face lights up and she rushes over for a hug. “Ada didn’t tell me you were coming!”

“Well, it was quite last-minute. Obviously due to recent events I had to come back.”

A look of understanding crosses over Polly’s eyes and I see her glance shift to Thomas. She knows without elaboration that I am not here for pleasure. I trust she will do well not to prod at my personal barriers as Ada has tried.

“You armed?” Polly asks the broers, holding up a smoking cigarette.

“Yeah.”

“Please consider putting your guns behind the bar in case feelings start to run high.”

“Behind the bar, eh?” Arthur exclaims with wild eyes and dramatically pulls out his pistol. He empties the bullets onto the floor and plops the gun onto a table. “I prefer it there.”

Polly looks at Thomas and he grudgingly complies as well. Thomas starts to say something but cuts himself off over the rustling of my clothes. Everyone looks at me as I pull out two Smith and Wesson pistols from under my skirts, setting them down as well. Despite my welcoming appearance, this American came well prepared.

“Anyway… Had a dream about a black cat last night, Pol,” Thomas declares. “It means there’s a traitor close by, you taught me that.”

Polly takes this news modestly. “A black cat can mean lots of things. It can mean you’re hurting yourself. You're seeing things, Thomas?”

“Yes. Yes I am. Very clearly,” he answers and lights a cigarette. “Coming from every fucking direction.”

Arthur and I exchange glances. A traitor. We’re all thinking it but no one is bold enough to say. And it seems God has sent him this way. Through the window I see a car stop outside and Michael steps out, along with a tall blonde girl in a floral dress with shifty eyes.

“He’s here,” I mutter.

Polly gets an uncertain look. “Should Verena be here, Thomas?”

Thomas doesn’t hesitate. “She’s the foreign representative. Michael’s done his work in America and she needs to hear it. Besides, he has another American for us to interrogate.” He holds up a calming hand to me. “Not directed at you, love.”

No. He’s right. As much as I want to keep stone cold Thomas is right. This new woman is a stranger and we have all learned how unpredictable strangers can be, myself included. Not that I don’t want to offer friendship to whoever she is but I’m not as open as I used to be. Thomas doesn’t need to worry about offending our original encounter.

“I know,” I claim and give him a nod. “I’m on your side.”

The door opens and the couple walks in. Michael tries to keep a laid-back face but his partner looks otherwise. She scans us up and down and when her dark eyes focus on me her gaze all but latches onto me. I don’t let my own eyes soften and take the time to inspect her as well. Business must have been good to them in Detroit before the crash.

“Thomas, I’d like to introduce you to my wife.”

Michael gestures to the woman, who’s now eying Thomas like he’s a piece of meat. Wife. Oh, I’m sure she loves Michael…’s money. She reminds me of the girls I’d see walking through Williamsburg back home.

Thomas ignores his request. “Sit down, Michael.”

Michael keeps talking. “I betrayed you, but only in my heart. There was a time in America when there was a lot of money in that bank. I wondered if I could… leave, go to California.”

Oh, you klootzak. He thinks he can just walk away with our money? Granted I haven’t been around either but I know for a fact that I’d never be able to escape the Peaky Blinders if I tried.

“Invest in Hollywood. But Gina stopped me. She said-”

“I told you to sit down, Michael,” Thomas orders, waiting until his neef complies. “Now tell me what happened, on that ship, in Belfast Harbor.”

Belfast. Familiar territory. If Michael won’t spill his guts I’ll make sure Uncle Colon will make him.

Michael looks between Polly and Gina. “On the journey back from New York we needed a witness. He was from Belfast.”

Thomas’ face doesn’t change. “What happened when the ship docked?”

“This person had friends who ran a whiskey distillery in County Tyrone. They wanted a way of getting their stuff into America. So I invited them onboard.”

At the mention of whiskey Thomas’ eyes find mine and I shake my head. No, this is not my uncle’s work. Thank God he must believe me because Thomas looks away.

“When they came in I realized they were Scottish from Glasgow. They didn’t make whiskey. I asked Gina to leave and then they started talking about you, Tom. They said Tommy Shelby was a spent force. That politics had gotten to ‘im. Now was a time to move in, and if I wanted to move in with them. Then men from the IRA came aboard.”

With every word that comes out of Michael’s mouth, we all continue to stare at him as he explains, similar to how a young child might when telling why he did something bad. Laced with fear. For the entire time he keeps an apologetic, almost innocent look of trying to convince us that this is not entirely his fault.

Thomas waits for a moment. “And the men from Glasgow?”

“The IRA commander said they were called Billy Boys.”

“Fucking Billy Boys,” Arthur grunts. “They run every coal mine on every shipyard east of Glasgow. Protestant razor gang. They also dabble in politics.”

Enemies of Uncle Colon, no doubt. That’s probably why I’ve never heard of these men.

“But you did no deal, Michael,” Polly states. Is she trying to answer for him?

“We were too busy being excited to give you the good news.” Michael smiles and Gina takes the moment to lean in closer to him. “The reason we got married is because Gina is pregnant. You’re going to be a grandmother.”

Another man who couldn’t keep it in his pants. At least they had the decency to wed. Although I’m not too optimistic about these two being considerable parents. But if God has blessed them then I should not judge too harshly. All that’s left is for Thomas to declare his thought on the matter as we all look to him.

“Okay, Michael. I believe you. Welcome home, congratulations. Just remember. Your unborn child has witnessed what you said, and they-”

“Thomas,” Polly warns with wide eyes.

“And it will be born accordingly,” Thomas finishes.

Michael’s eyes flash and he jumps from his seat. “The fuck-?!”

“Where the fuck you going, eh?” Arthur growls and blocks him from Thomas. “You are free to fucking leave, Michael.”

Michael wants to strike so badly. His eyes burn with murderous desire. You wretched bloke. After everything we’ve all gone through I’d hope he would know to treasure the value of family.

“Fucking bastard!” He hisses.

Thomas doesn’t flinch. “You’re not really free, Michael. You lost this company a lot of money. I told you to sell, but you held on. Now I want you to pay me back what you owe me.”

Ah, sweet karma. It’s such a passive insult but it’s an insult nonetheless. I hope to never be on this family’s list of enemies. If only Gina’s scheming face wasn’t slinking closer.

“Michael, honey. Look at your cousin. He’s in trouble. He needs you.” She gives Thomas a final glance before pulling Michael away. “Come on, baby. Let’s go.”

I can’t help myself. “Good to see you’re keeping up the stereotype that Americans like to party.”

Gina stops in her tracks and looks down at me. “Oh, Michael’s told me all about you.”

My lips press into a line. “Then you do not truly know me.”

Michael scoffs and points at me. “What about her, eh? Steenstra was there too! Slacking off in Grand Rapids while I-!”

Thomas abruptly steps forward and Michael stops yelling. “Verena was still working, Michael. In other places. Grand Rapids, Chicago, Georgia. She was with her family. She understands family, right?”

In the corner of my eyes I see him looking at me. I don’t look away from Michael when I give my cold answer.

“Yes.”

“That is why she owes us nothing,” Arthur clarifies, stroking his gun on the table.

I shake my head with pity. “You have no idea what you just walked into, Michael. You of all people know not to fuck with Thomas Shelby.”

Gina leads Michael out, each looking very cross. Polly escorts them and Arthur shuts the door before I can utter even more harsh words. I can tell Michael’s news has left a mark on Thomas. He keeps staring ahead with the same blank expression. The look that says he’s thinking too deep.

“Ignore them, Thomas. You are not a spent force.” I give him a sturdy pat on the shoulder. “You are a strong and stubborn force that’s going to outlast them all.”

Thomas stays quiet. Arthur, on the other hand, keeps chuckling and looking at where the others just walked out.

“Fucking cheek of her, eh?”

Thomas snaps out of his trance and picks up his gun. “Verena, please make a call for me. I’d like to speak with your uncle.”

I don’t hesitate. “It will be done.”

“Thank you, love.” He looks up with eyes that dare to show me how much fear he has riding on these recent events. “I know I can trust you.”

If only I could say the same.

@meadows5

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anonymooseforever007 · 2 years ago

Text

Ring Around the Roses

(Alfie Solomons x female reader)

Summary: Attempting to get away from the Shelby party chaos, Alfie and his wife sneak off into Tommy's garden for a little fun. It isn't until the next morning they discover the consequences of their actions and Alfie has to remind his wife what their marriage is really about.

A/N-Hi Y'all! Possible TW's for only the end of this include Mentions of death, Unhealthy coping habits and self blame! Also this is for K's (@runnning-outof-time) 3K celebration! Congratulations you're amazing and I love seeing you on here❤️❤️❤️ I hope you like this! I haven't done a celebration before really but I saw your theme and the idea spring into my head. Despite the warnings it's mostly fluffy until the time skip! Also there's one part that implies smut but none actually written! Enjoy ❤️

WC- 6.6k

Main Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you sure we can do this out here?"

"Do what dovey? I'm just taking a nice little stroll with my darling wife aren't I? Letting her get a quiet break from all those heathens inside."

You scoffed, knocking into your husband's side gently as the pair of you walked through the garden. For a man who seemed particularly fond of dark colours, Thomas Shelby's garden was particularly vibrant.

"Oh hush, you only call them heathens because you're too scared to use the word friend."

"FRIEND!" Alfie scoffed while kicking at a particularly beautifully tulip that just happened to be nearby, just to prove his point. "No no no Dovey, THEY are not my friends, yeah. If I were to pick anyone to be my friend it certainly would not be ANY of them."

You only rolled your eyes and shot a knowing smirk in his direction. For all your husband's spite and trickery, you knew he really did have a soft spot for the Shelby family.

"Alright love, I believe ya. That's absolutely why you immediately declined the invitation to come here tonight isn't it. Burned it in the fireplace correct? Told me not to put it in the calendar? Because you don't have plans at being anything other than vicious enemies is that right? The pie I brought tonight was a death threat wasn't it? Did you slip in some arsenic into the powdered sugar?"

Rolling his eyes at your teasing, Alfie couldn't help but smile as he watched you laugh at your own joke. Continuing your path through the garden you mindlessly reached back a hand for your husband a few steps behind. A clear indication of what you wanted. What you always wanted. Slipping his hand between yours, he let you drag him through the bushes, further from the party. With each step he could see you relax a bit more, as you enjoyed the scene around you.

"Is it quieter out here Dovey?"

Smiling softly, you only nodded your head before reaching out gently to touch the leaves of a nearby bush. Though the party was fun, it had gotten a bit loud and in the growing chaos you needed some air. So while Tommy and Polly were distracted trying to convince Arthur and Finn not to throw Michael in the lake, you and your husband had slipped outside.

"Alfie, we should plant a garden of our own I think."

"Is that right Dovey? Does my lady want some bushes of her own to trim doesn't she?"

"I think we could get some nice rose bushes. I've always loved those."

"Roses, is that it? You got a feeling about those prickly little parasites don't ya Dovey? I never got why you liked them."

Chuckling you sat on the edge of a nearby wall as your husband dug his feet in the ground. You knew exactly why Alfred hated roses, and it still amused you to this day.

It happened years ago, around the time you'd first gotten together. This was before Alfie was even able to grow a beard, and all his kisses resulted in a scratchy scruff that prickled your face. Way back when boxing was still his main pastime instead of "baking", both kinds actually and these days your husband finally knew how to make a decent muffin. In an effort to be romantic, he'd shown up at your work one day with a nice bouquet of roses. They were lovely flowers and you were immensely elated by the gesture, and especially amused since he'd bought the flowers from that very shop only the day before too.... However it was a shame you never got the chance to put them in water. See, somewhere between the ten steps it took to get from the door to your table, he had tripped and fallen flat on the ground. Don't worry, his face hadn't hit the hard ground, it was cushioned....by the thorny roses. Maybe it was a good thing the thorns had left so many bloody scratches. It meant you weren't able to tell his face had turned as red as the roses petals now surrounding him. Instead of the romantic date he wanted to take you on, the evening was spent with you dapping the cuts on his face with a damp cloth while he started at the wall, contemplating every life choice he'd ever made. That was the night Alfred Solomons decided he'd never trust a rose ever again. Not even the ones his darling wife sought to plant in her gardens.

"Alfie, come on! Roses aren't that bad, just because you had a little slip up years ago doesn't mean they all hate you."

Standing by up again, you held out your arms towards Alfie as music began to reach the garden. Shaking his head lightly, he set down his cane and took your arms, fully confident you'd be there to support him if his hip got too bad. You and Alfie had yet to dance tonight, caught up talking with others (which was really just your doing) and pointing out everyone who'd gotten too drunk and was trying piss in the plants. It wasn't something either of your minded to badly, the large crowds of people tended to make you feel a bit nervous and Alfie occasionally had a hard time keeping rhythm because of his hip. So most of your dancing was done in the back corners of the ballroom or privately in your kitchen, waiting for the midnight snacks to be done.

However tonight, it seems you'd be dancing in Thomas Shelby's garden. Slowly but happily, you waltzed closely with your husband, stepping around the fountain and laughing as he stopped to twirl you ever few seconds. Other than the music from the house and the gentle crunches of your shoes beneath the gravel path, the world was silent. When the song ended your husband gave you a gentle kiss and stepped back, though he was still holding you in his arms. Looking up above yourselves, you saw the constellations fitting the night sky.

"Ohh Alfie! Look at them! Aren't they beautiful?"

Beaming, you grinned up at the stars twinkling down on you before moving from your husband to a smaller empty plot of ground. You suspected that something was to be planted there soon, but paid no mind to the grime that would get on your skirt as you settled down to sit in the dirt. It was a nice little spot, right next to the rocky path and dug out in a manner that was lined on three sides by tall hedges. To anyone looking out if the mansion, the little alcove would have been completely invisible.

"What are ya doing now Dovey? Is this the thing you said we shouldn't be doing?" Alfie teased you from where he was still standing.

"I just wanna sit and watch the stars for a bit. Come," remaining seated you patted the spot next to you, "Join me."

Alfie walked over to the spot but when he got there, he only raised an eyebrow at you and tapped his hip with the cane. You stared for a moment and then it clicked. Laughing slightly at your forgetfulness, you stood up, bowing dramatically, and held out your arm.

"Right right, I forget you have the hip of an overworked, ninety seven year old parlor dancer. Shall I assist you to the ground my dear sir?"

Alfie only grumbled, but his eyes twinkled as you teased him. If anyone else had made the comment they'd have been dead before they blinked, but you were different. Alfred Solomons was capable of many things, but some nights when his hip got bad, he needed help moving around more, especially if it meant going from standing to sitting on the ground. You were happy to help of course, but being married for over a decade didn't mean the pair of you were above lightly poking fun of the other. Only two years ago, you had accidentally scratched part of your eye and needed to wear an eyepatch for five weeks. The first thing Alfie had done when you walked out of the examination room and asked if he could get food for dinner, was reply with "does patchy wanted a cracker" in reference to the one eyed parrot you'd seen in a film the month before. It was just something you'd always done together even before you started dating. A dark humor you both shared, as if joking about the hurt could make it better.

Holding his other arm, you gently helped your husband lower himself to the ground, squeezing his hand comfortingly when he let out a small groan. After helping your husband take a seat, you settled into your own again, leaning your head on his shoulder as you looked to the heavens.

"You aren't really gonna plant roses are ya Love? What if something happens to them?"

"Like what? You assault them with your face again?"

"....Maybe? But like why do you really enjoy them? I still don't see the charm."

Sighing, you shifted your gaze and looked your husband in the eyes. One of your hands moved up to his face, as you gently caresses the one spot on his face that refused to grow hair like the rest of his beard. You knew it was another old war wound, but this was actually one he had yet to tell you the story of. Gazing into his eyes a few moments more, you then changed positions so you were seated across his lap, one leg in either side of his.

"Why do I love roses?....Their petals are as soft as their thorns are sharp and given the right hand, their climb up any wall in their path. Not only that but their petals can have many uses for food or paint or even my blush. That means they are able to change their usefulness based off their situation at hand. They are able to adapt, nor are the helpless. Some people say the point of the thorns is to choke out anything else threatening to take the roses' livelihood." you gently held your husbands face between your hands as you continued, "I like roses because they remind me of you Alfie. Because they are beautiful, and strong, and dangerous. You are a gorgeous and strong man, and I know how badly you try to protect me every day. You are so kind to me, but I know how far you'll go for me. I would go just as far for you. You are my rose Alfred Solomons and so I love them as all they remind me of you."

Alfie was quiet for a moment, observing what you'd said. His hands sat on your waist, thumbs rubbing gently in your sides.

"You saying I'm like a fucking flower Dovey, is that it?"

"Yeah, you're my flower though."

"....Alright."

"....You know why else you're like a rose love?"

"Why poppet?"

"Because it can be a pain in the ass to keep you alive sometimes."

Alfie only put his hand to his chest in mock offense, while your grinned up at him mischievously.

"Oi, now you better watch your words there Dovey."

"Make me Rosie," you whispered, grinning as your leaned closer to your husbands face, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw.

Gently Alfie leaned back, taking you with him until his back was on the ground. Hands, still on his face, you could feel the smile on his face. Slowly one of his hands moved to your head bringing you down so he could kiss you again. Sweet at first but it quickly increased in passion and vigor. Though eventually you had to pull back for breath, and it was then you realized his hands had already rearranged your skirts in a way overnight you both.

"Alfred? I know we can't do this out here?"

Your husband only laughed, reaching towards his belt as he pulled you close again.

"Slide down a bit farther and I think you'll see we definitely can Dovey. It's only a matter of being quiet enough to evade capture."

It was a nice little spot, right next to the rocky path and dug out in a manner that was lined on three sides by tall hedges. To anyone looking out if the mansion, the little alcove would have been completely invisible. And luckily, the music was loud enough to hide the sounds of rustling bushes...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't until the next morning when you realized what went wrong...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After making it back to the house last night and finding half the dog food "mysteriously missing", the pair of you had decided to call it a night. And since business was going so well Alfie had elected to take a few days off, hoping to spend more time with you. It also meant he'd finally be able to sleep in.....or so he thought.

A sudden crash woke Alfie from his slumber the next morning.

Shooting up, he automatically looked to his right, and his heart stopped for a moment realizing you weren't there. Another clatter from downstairs and a frustrated scream from you had him practically jumping out of bed and grabbing his gun. You usually like staying in bed for a few more hours, especially when he was there, so the fact he could hear your distress from upstairs made him worry.

Carefully Alfie snuck down the hall, peaking in rooms to make sure no unsavory figures were lurking behind the door. Another annoyed groan accompanied by various curse words hurried him to his final destination.

"Love, are you alright?"

It was a stupid thing to ask as you were very much not alright. The kitchen was a mess, looking like every cabinet had been opened and all the contents pulled out. Pots and bass were laud hurriedly across the counters as you rummaged through every nook and cranny. A quickly glance into the living room told Alfie it was scattered in a similar state. But you hadn't responded to your husband, not the first time or even the second. It wasn't until Alfie stepped right up behind you, putting his hand on your shoulder, and turning your around to face him when you responded.

"I can't find it."

Your voice wavered as you admitted the truth. Looking down like a small child about to be told off, you averted your face from your husband's. Alfie was still confused, but he could tell whatever you were rallying about was obviously important.

"Can't find what Dovey? Whatever it is it's probably isn't too bad. I can help ya find it righty?"

"No Alfie you don't undertstand."

"Then help me understand Love. Let's get through this together like we always have yeah? Come on, tell your husband what we're looking for." Carefully cupping your face in his hands, Alfie guided you to look at him again. He could see the tears welling in your eyes as you spoke.

"....I.....I lost my wedding ring Alfie."

"Oh."

It was the simple oh that broke the dam. Stepping back from your husband, tears began to stream down your face as you shoved your fingers in you hair as if trying to hold in the stress.

"SEE I told you it was terrible. I...I woke up this morning and went to the bathroom and noticed it missing when I went to clean my hands. I figured I'd just taken it off la... last night but it wasn't by the bed table like I usually put it. Then I went through the bathroom and it wasn't there. I've gone through every room in this hours and I can't fucking find it!!! I don't ....I don't know where it is Alfie. I just... oh god."

Covering you mouth with your hand, you realized where you lost the ring.

"Alfie the fucking garden."

"The garden? Love you haven't made the garden yet, how could it be there?"

"No, TOMMY'S garden. It has to be there. It fell off last night when we were rolling in the dirt. I've been meaning by to get it resized. Oh fuck this is awful"

Alfie actually chuckled at your realization. Of course the ring would fall off in the most inconvenient place possible, but he wasn't about to tell you that.

"Thats alright Dovey we can just..."

Throwing your hands in the air you interrupted your husband, frustrated at yourself for a number of reasons. It stung Alfie's heart to see you like this. Carefully he dragged your hands from your face and pulled you into a hug. Soothingly his hands ran up and down your back as he tried to comfort you.

"We can just what Alfred? Waltz back over and demand he let us dig up the plants for it? He'd probably ask why and what are we suppose to say then huh Alfred? Oh you know, we lost it in the garden you see...Well what were you doing there Y/N? ...Nothing much just fertilizing the soil, pollinating the flower, playing like the rake and ho, rustling the bushes, sowing seed in the garden, FUCKING IN THE FLOWERBEDS!!!! No we can't do that Alfie we just can't! It's probably gone forever... I'm so sorry."

Alfie was the one to hide his face this time. He knew you were in distress but he was amused by one of your last sentences. You always were good with the innuendos. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tried to get you to calm down. He knew at this point you weren't so mad about the ring, as just overwhelmed by the lack of success you'd had in finding it.

"Yes love, we can tell him all those things and if he'd got any sort of romantic bone in his tiny, banged up little body he'd offer us shovels to dig if we need them. And if not then I'd wager every deal I'd ever have with his lot is out the fucking window isn't it. We've been married since before the little one of them was teething haven't we? It's not like they don't think we're fucking. Besides it's a decent fucking garden, Tommy should have know what he was doing when he made that little hidey spot didn't he? It'll be fine. And if I find it then I'll get to propose to you all over again won't I? I think if I got one wish left in the word it would be to do that again. Ask if you'd be mine forever and let you know I'll always be there. Love I promise. It's alright Dovey, it's ok. No need to get worked up about it's not such a big deal."

Thought he was trying to help, his last sentence only made things worse. Stepping pack from Alfie you threw your hands up again.

"IT IS OUR MARRIAGE ALFIE! And I've practically lost it like it means nothing at all! How can you say that!"

There it was. The really reason you were so worked up. Not because you'd lost the little ring. It was because somewhere in your mind, over the years you'd been together, you'd gotten the idea that if you didn't have it on your were almost betraying everything you held dear. As if you thought without the ring, all the vows you'd mad together were nil. Alfie couldn't help but laugh at that. He laughed hard too, like you'd told the funniest joke in their world.

"You think that ring is our marriage?"

Stepping closer again Alfie took your arms and pulled you closer.

"Our marriage is so much more than that fucking ring love," he said, cupping your face between his hands again. "Our marriage is me stealing Ollie's shirt before every lunch date because his is cleaner than mine and wanna look my best for the best, that's you by the way. It's you grinning at me through the glass window at fuck O'clock in then morning when I've taken the dog out for a piss since you thought it'd be funny to lock me out in the cold in my fucking skeevies again. It's me paying a fuck ton of money to the flower shop down the street so you could get a rose every week I was away fighting. It's you spending hours patching me up after I had a bad fight even though blood makes you gag yeah. When you refuse to give me dinner until I give you a kiss and when I won't give you a gift until I've gotten a hug? Sharing a bath after a hard day? That's our marriage. You interrupting my meeting because you're so excited to show me a new book? Me interrupting your book club because I've just gotten back from a business trip? You demanding I come to bed and cuddle up, only to shove me off of you later when you're too hot? Me tightening jars in the pantry so you have to get me to open them? Making fun of each other's injuries, patchy? Don't you see it? You. Me. You. Me. You. Me. WE."

"Alfie..." You couldn't help but smile at your husband's words realizing he was right.

"Dovey, It isn't defined by a thin piece of metal with a tiny fucking stone that I stole off a rich toff at a boxing match one day. Our marriage is YOU and ME and every little moment in between. And I promise it's always gonna be just that. And do you know why that is Treacle?"

Alfie had moved his hands again, now resting them on your hips. Gazing at you lovingly he waited for your answer.

"Why Ally?"

"Because I'm your flower remember? I'm your fucking rose.... and you're fucking my sunshine, Dovey. I have no chance of living without you."

Wrapping your arms around your husband, you buried your face into his neck. Losing the ring you'd worn almost every day for years didn't seem so criminal anymore.

"Alfred Solomons when did you learn to say something so romantic."

Your husband only chuckled as he step away, grabbing some of the boxes you'd pulled out in your panic.

"A master never reveals his secrets Dovey. Now come on. Let's clean this up and then we'll go get you a new ring eh? Wouldn't want any gangly miscreant thinking they've got a chance with you would we?"

Looking at the damage you'd done, you couldn't but sigh, maybe it would have been better to wake your husband immediately before diving head first into your expedition. Now you were kicking yourself since you'd just redone all the work you'd don't last week reorganizing every thing.

"I'm not sure the jewellery shop will still be open today by the time we finish Alfred. I'm not even sure we'll be able to finish this in a week with the mess I've made."

Your husband just bonked you lightly with the broom he handed you and nudged you in the direction of the living room.

"That's alright Dovey. Because unless you've got some nefarious little plans I haven't heard of to steal my dog and run off, I don't think either of us is going anywhere anytime soon aren't we?"

You could only smile and kiss him on the cheek.

"I suppose you're right. We've got all the time in the world...."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two years later...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Shelby, I want my dog."

The Shelby in question turned around, eyeing the woman before him. He knew this day would come. Only he expected it to be sooner, a few days, maybe even a week later...but now it was four months. Four months since he....despite his feelings towards the man, Tommy couldn't help but feel slight regrets for what he'd done. Especially seeing the state of her now, standing in his garden.

"He's just gone on a walk with Charlie and Finn. They should be back in an hour or so."

"I'll wait... I see you filled in that empty plot of ground. They're lovely flowers, I don't remember them being there two winters ago."

Tommy averted his gaze to the bushes you were pointing at. Indeed the small alcove where you'd hidden with your husband had been filled. In its place grew a thick rose bush, blooming with life. You smiled, and to anyone else, they might have thought your look truthful. And some of it was, thinking of the happy memories connected there. But Tommy could see deeper than that. Behind the smile he could see the same pain he had when he looked in mirrors. The pain that came from losing the thing you loved most. For as different as you both were, he knew the tactic you played, though the mask you wore was much brighter than his. And for now he decided he could respect that. He could pretend just for a moment, if only to help you. It was the least he could do, seeing as he was the reason you wore it... He was the one to pull the trigger.

"You're right. The gardener put them in almost two years ago, right after the party where Arthur and Finn tossed Michael into the lake. Do you remember that one? I saw you talking to my sister but never saw you leave that night."

A genuine chuckle left your mouth hearing his words. You played with the ring on your left hand. Only two years old and very expensive, but in that moment, it felt like you were wearing another ring again. One that was much older and worn, that you hadn't seen in years.

"I do. That was certainly a night I'll remember forever. It's a shame you got rid of that little alcove. It was a nice little spot away from the world wasn't it."

Tommy could only nod and take another drag of his cigarette.

"Did Alfie ever tell you about the first and last time he gave me roses in person. I mean, of course he probably didn't and I'll have to tell you sometime, but I think you might find it funny. There's a lot about him I'm sure he hasn't told you. But then again, knowing him there's probably a lot he did..." You trailed off, staring at the flowers a bit longer, remembering that day over a decade ago, not really meaning to tell Tommy that, doing so anyway. After all, no one had heard from you in months, so it made sense to him, that you'd be eager to talk to anyone. Even the man you should hate most in the world.

Silence descended on the pair standing tense in the garden. There was so much to be said, but neither knew where to start. Truthfully, you'd only talked to Tommy a handful of times, but he felt like he'd already known you like his sister. He couldn't help but scoff, thinking of all the times Alfie had gone off on a tangent about you during a meeting. Sometimes, your mention had nothing to do what was being discussed at all, Alfie just liked to brag about the good he had. In the end it was Tommy who spoke up first, the guilt of his past actions finally caving in on him.

"Y/N, I'm sor..."

"Don't. Thomas, I don't want you to say sorry," turning from the vibrant blooms, you faced the capped man. "I don't want you to say sorry, because you know what? I don't blame you. You're completely alright. I'm not mad at you.... It's my fault I suppose. I could have stopped it."

Tommy raised his eyebrow, curious to what you meant, and also concerned. There was something in your eyes that made his stomach turn slightly hearing those words. But he couldn't exactly place why.

"What's that suppose to mean Y/N?"

You only let out a bittersweet laugh and stared out into the garden again, sitting on the edge of a familiar fountain before you revealed the truth.

"It's my fault he's gone I think. I should have known. I should have never left that day and I could have stopped it."

Tommy's brows furrowed as he sat down next to you.

"What's that mean? You couldn't have known what his plan was? It's not your fault."

Absentmindedly, you picked at the leaves of a nearby bush. Though your voice was even, Tommy could practically see the war inside your head.

"It's how he kissed me when I left that day. I was only going to be gone a few days to visit my friend who was suppose to have her baby soon. Nothing dangerous. But it's the way he kissed me that should have tipped me off. He kissed me the way he did when he got on the damed train, in that damned uniform. He kissed me like he didn't think he'd see me ever again, going to die in the war. And I guess he didn't."

Tommy didn't say anything. He just let you continue. Something in his head told him, he needed to let your speak, he needed to keep you here tonight. If he let you leave today, no one would ever see you again and something in Tommy told him not to let that happen.

"You know I still haven't admitted it to myself just yet... The truth," standing up you began to pace around the fountain, circling the water. "Since I first got the call I haven't picked up the phone anymore, I'm scared of what I'll hear. I haven't opened any letters, because I don't want to see what they'll say. I still haven't even gone home yet. I've been paying for a hotel room by my friend's house and only leaving by when I need more food. I know it not good for me, but it's all I can find I can do. I've been telling myself it's just that. He's gone to the war again and he'll be back in a few months." Though you spoke with a smile as if talking about the weather, it was easy to see the pain in your eyes. You thought denying the truth would make the hurt go away. But it wouldn't, Tommy knew it was only a matter of time before you broke. And like with Cyril, he felt like he was the one who needed to help. So he decided to play along for now, letting you keep your act up. Atleast until he could figure out the best way to fix the mess he still felt he'd made.

"You tell yourself it's the war eh? Do you write him letters."

"Yes, I write him one almost every day. But I haven't sent any. Did you know that I was rarely able to send them to him during the war. Something about his post being secretive, and no one should know where it really was. So I'd just... write a letter everyday and when I got a letter that his squad was resting at a safe camp every few months I'd just send the packet of them.... If I was lucky I'd get one back, but most of the time I just had to wait. I learned a lot about waiting then. I learned it was better to laugh too. Laughing helped me stay sane."

Standing up, Tommy began walking with you as you stepped deeper into the gardens.

"Laughing eh? Well I guess it's better than what I did. Almost drunk myself to the grave and then fucked off in a caravan with my son for a month. Seems you're handling it better than me."

You could only scoff at his response.

"Oh don't worry, there's been plenty of drinks for me too. I'm a happy drunk though, so I guess it helps my plan. After all, as long as I'm laughing, I don't have time to cry. I don't think I'll be able to stop crying the day I begin. So I'm just trying to hold off as long as I can."

"Aren't we all."

Silence fell in the garden again, and the two widowed souls walked back to the house. It was starting to get back and Tommy had noticed Finn's car pull up a few minutes ago. When you reached the back door you were met with a fluffy beast knocking you over as soon he'd caught sight of you. Cyril was happy to have at least one of his masters back. The man taking care of his now treated him well, but he still missed life with his old owners, even if he couldn't express it in words.

While you reunited with Cyril and applauded Charlie on the tricks he taught the dog, Tommy went to gather some of Cyril's things and have Francis prepare a room for you. Tommy had no clue where you'd take the dog, but seeing as you seemed adamant about staying away from Margret, and apparently didn't despise Tommy (somehow), he thought it made sense to let you stay the night for a bit. And something still told him to convince you to stay even if just for one day.

On his was back down the stairs he noticed something sitting on the table and there was a click in his brain. He remembered the curiosity brought to him that morning during breakfast, and suddenly a lot of odd business meetings made sense. He finally realized who'd messed up the empty dirt patch that night two years ago. Grabbing the object off the table, Tommy headed back to the drawing room. Inside you were still petting your beloved dog, even though Finn had taken Charlie to get ready for bed.

"Y/N, I went up to grab some of Cyril's things, but I think it may be better for you to spend the night here. It's getting late and I don't think either of us wants the dog getting hurt if you were to crash."

You laughed gently at his words, not caring to ask about the hand behind his back. Not thinking much about his words, you accepted his offer. You knew you should be mad at him, hate him, even what to kill him, but you couldn't. You were too tried to be mad at anyone right now. Besides, it wasn't like you knew where you were going anyway. You just wanted to see your...his dog again. Maybe if you had that little piece left, it would make it easier to move on. It would make it easier to pretend you weren't alone now.

"Alright. I'll stay. But only so Charlie can give Cyril a proper goodbye. I'd hate to tear them apart, it seems they've made close friends."

"They have," Tommy smiled, genuinely happy thinking of how closely his son had bonded with the dog. "Cyril's stuff is in Charlie's room now infact. They've taken such a liking, I can't keep them apart. We can get his stuff tomorrow, but I do have one thing I think you may want now."

You looked towards the Shelby man curious. "What is it?," you questioned.

Silently Tommy extended his hand to give you the object he'd snagged from the table.

It was a single rose... But something was different about it. The stem seemed to have grabbed something buried within the dirt to take along as it began to grow. Twisting and turning all the way out of the dirt, outwards towards the sun, as if offering the shiny object up. An ages old promise from the rose to the sun of an endless truth, never broken even in death...

The rose was offering his sun a ring.

And not just any ring. A wedding ring. Simple and worn, it had been stolen off a rich toff from a boxing match many years ago. It had survived work and war, seen blood and lust, and so many other things. And while the ring didn't define the marriage it represented a promise you thought you'd never see again. But here now, seeing how tightly the rose stem had grown around it, you knew you'd never have to worry about that again. Not even death could stop the love the rose proposed to his sun. Even in death he'd still offer her life.

You couldn't even take the rose from Tommy's hand before you finally broke. Laughing at the irony, Tears streamed down your face as you sunk to your knees, all the pain you'd been bottling up coming out. And thus you sobbed, hard. So hard in fact, it felt like you couldn't breathe. And you sobs were still mixed with laughter of disbelief as a million memories ran through your head, but none as loud as the one of that night and the morning after.

Two years ago you'd lost that ring. Alfie promised that he'd look multiple times whenever he went back to the house, even if it meant having the meeting in the garden like "a bunch of prissy ladies at a fucking tea party" as he'd called it. And for two years he'd had no luck until now. But today, your rose had finally found the lost ring, even if you'd lost him months ago.

Setting the rose gently on the table, Tommy sunk to his knees too. Letting you grab onto him, for a shoulder to mourn on. He knew you needed it. For so long you'd shut yourself away, denying the truth and trying to act like it didn't affect you. You wanted to pretend your world wasn't falling apart and now you couldn't any more. He'd been he same way, except he didn't have anyone to help him. He couldn't burden his one year old son with his grief and he knew most of his family still resented Grace to some degree. They hadn't been as destroyed by her passing as he had. He didn't want you to be alone like he had. For as many terrible thing as Tommy had done, he couldn't bring it upon himself to leave you alone now. And so he sat on the floor, holding you in his arms as the cracked dam finally broke.

That night, until the early hours of the morning, Thomas Shelby sat comforting the wife of the man he'd killed. And he would until she'd fallen asleep, finally worn out from her grieving. In the morning he'd offer breakfast and they'd get to talking about the loves they lost. They were still both hurt and broken and mourning what they'd lost, but they weren't alone now. For two people so different they both knew what the other felt so deeply. Little snippets and stories about happier times, while watching a little boy play with a big dog, laughing as the pair rolled in the grass. And while both still grieved, there was a peace to be found in being with someone who knew how they felt.

And while they talked, Y/N played with the ring on her finger. It was new and expensive and fit just right. This one was only two years old and didn't have many memories but she loved it just the same. And upstairs by her bed sat another ring, but this one was held tightly by a rose she'd placed in a vase. This was the ring that she loved more, and the one she really wanted to wear, but she couldn't bear to tear it from the rose just yet. She didn't know if she'd ever be able to. Maybe she'd let the rose dry out and preserve it like she use to do someone's at the flower shop when she was young. But for now she's let it live as it was.

Holding on tightly to a promise that not even death could divide...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While all this happened a mailman was headed towards Birmingham with a letter from a dead man, asking about his dog and looking for his wife....

#Alfie Solomons x reader #peaky blinders x reader #alfie solomons imagine #peaky blinders headcanon #peaky blinders #alfie solomons #tales from the flower garden

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themultifandomgal · 2 years ago

Text

Shelby Sister- Troublesome Twins Pt2

I was asked to do a part 2. So here it is!

Since Finn getting shot, YNs brothers have been even more protective than normal. She's finding it harder to see her boyfriend since Tommy has basically put her on house arrest. YN had been sneaking out during the night to meet Isaiah under the bridge by the cut. Then one day Isaiah asked YN to marry him, she of course said yes, but there's no way her brothers would allow that. So they made the decision to run off, with the help of Finn since he's the only one not to try and control YN's life. Now they're returning home, YN hoping her brothers don't go mad and Isaiah hoping her brothers don't kill him.

"There they are" Finn smiles walking over to them as the get off the train "the happy couple. Welcome back" Finn envelopes his twin before shaking Isaiah's hand

"So how bad will it be?"

"Well Arthur probably will shout, Tommy might have both your heads and Ada well she'll find all of this hilarious" Finn says pulling away

"Looking forward to it" Isaiah sighs

"Just don't tell 'em that your havin a kid because I think that will give 'em a heart attack"

"Well I'm not not for a while"

"Good. You hear that Isaiah. I may approve of you and my sister but no babies us till your like 30" this makes Isaiah and I laugh.

We arrive at the Garrison where I know Finn has gathered everyone

"You ok?" Isaiah asks before we step foot into the pub

"Should be asking you that" I chuckle taking Isaiah's hand in mine "but yes. May as well get this over and done with" I take a deep breath and open the doors immediately seeing it empty apart from my family sat at a large table. Everyone looks at us walking in

"Where the fuck have you been YN?" Arthur yells slamming his drink down

"Let the girl sit down first" Ada says, I give her a little smile in reply. I drag Isaiah over to the table and take a seat next to Polly. Tommy just stares at me while Arthur drinks. Michael sits smoking a cigarette looking between Tommy and I

“So” tommy finally speaks “want to tell us where you were?”

“Errm ok so” I play with my ring nervously under the table “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I knew you would go mad”

“Spit it out” Arthur grunts

“Isaiah and I got married” I quickly say

“You bloody what?!” Arthur yells

“Finn did you know?”

“Yes, but Tom….”

“You went behind my back”

“I warned you Tommy. I told you Isaiah and I would get married one day with or without your permission”

“Are your pregnant?” Micheal asks

“No I’m not bloody pregnant”

“Then why marry so young”

“Maybe because they love each other” Ada says in my defence, but Tommy scoffs

“They’re kids”

“I’m 21 Tommy. I’m an adult I know what I’m doing” I yell at my brother

“No you don’t YN! What if he fucks another woman? What if he hurts you? He’s going to break your heart. Fuck YN I know what men his age do, hell men my age fuck around while married”

“Just ‘cause you all cheated on your wife’s doesn’t mean Isaiah will”

“Ok I think we need to calm down” aunt Polly tries

“No you know what this was a mistake. Maybe we should have stayed in London maybe I should have made you think I was dead because clearly you’d prefer that than me being married and happy!” I yell one last time “come on Is we’re going” I stand up pulling Isaiah with me. We begin walking out when Isaiah stops, turning around to face my brothers

“You know, I actually really love YN. I respect her as a person, she’s my equal and I will do everything in my power to keep her safe and provide for her and hopefully our kids in the future. I know YN will want you all apart of that, but I guess it’s your choice” Isaiah places his arm around my waist as we walk out of the garrison

“Thank you Is”

“Always”

I groan getting out of bed after hearing multiple knocks on the door and Polly shouting for me. Isaiah and I have been staying with Polly before we try and find our own home. I wrap my dressing gown around my body and make my way downstairs when I see Tommy and Arthur stood at the door

“What do you want?” I ask folding my arms

“You were right” I raise my eyebrows at Tommy. He never apologises

“Continue”

“You told me you would marry him”

“We’re just worried about you” Arthur finally says “we don’t want you hurt. Your our little sister. The baby of the family”

“I’m not a baby anymore. Neither is Finn. I appreciate that you want to keep me safe but I can handle myself and now I have Isaiah, well I guess I’ve always had him. I’m happy and I promise if Isaiah ever does anything to hurt me I will tell you”

“Can we come in?” Tommy asks

“Best ask Poll. I’ll go and get dressed and get Isaiah up”

“Just promise me 1 thing… no babies yet. I don’t think I can handle that as well”

“Ok” I chuckle responding to Tommy.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders reader #tommy shelby #arthur shelby #finn shelby imagine #isaiah jesus #isaiah jesus x oc #isaiah jesus x y/n #isaiah jesus imagine #isaiah jesus x reader #sister shelby #finn shelby #shelby sister

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vivianleighwishesshewasme · 3 months ago

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Red Bridge

"Seeking to absolve himself after Tommy’s imposed quarantine, Michael attempts to make a deal with the revered Chang family. Though he initially struggles to navigate a culture foreign to him, he thrives with support from Brilliant’s younger sister, Mei. As they work together to build a bridge between their two families, they find themselves falling into the river of love."

________________________________________________

1928

Birmingham England

The Garrison

_____________________________________

The Shelby and Gray families filtered into the Garrison one by one slowly filling the pub.

Tommy stood in front of the bar, The Shelby Family ltd. etched on the mirror behind him reminding everyone that they were a family unit.

“Right, thank you all for showing up today. We have an interesting business opportunity. I ask for open minds. On the tables you’ll see manilla folders indicating information that we should use for our next venture.” He paused and waited for a few brave souls to riffle through the file.

“Are we able to vote or just to nod our heads Tommy, because it's decided for us?” Ada asked with a sigh. She didn’t even bother looking down when Polly had gasped loudly next to her. Whatever it was, she wasn’t going to like it.

“We vote Ada, when has that changed?” Tommy asked drily, earning a mix of scoffs and chuckles from around him.

“Out with it Tom, so of us have actual business to open today.” Polly said slamming the file closed and pushing it towards Ada who shook her head no.

“Right, plans have changed for the day. That file contains the only important family business this week…” He motioned once more to the manilla folders with multiple sheets of white and black splotched papers, littered with notes, photos and information.

“When doing business deals, Chinese companies …” A loud eruption of frantic cries and curses filled the room preventing Thomas from being heard. He bit his lip and waited a moment letting them get it out. Thomas slammed his large calloused hands on the bar resounding in a huge boom echoing through the pub. He waited for silence and scanned the stunned faces before he continued.

“ The Chinese prioritize building strong personal relationships before closing a deal, meaning they are going to focus on establishing trust and rapport with their partners through extended interactions. We will be going to dinners, social events before they ever agree to talking about the business or rushing into signing a contract with the Shelby Company Limited for export of seven tons of golden opium. This will be a slower negotiation process with emphasis on respecting their culture and values.” Thomas scanned the room and let out a breath of air. A pregnant silence permeated the room. No one moved or even dared to loudly.

“Right, I’m going to regret this but does anyone have any questions?” He asked, finally wanting an opinion.

“Why the fucking chinese brother?” Arthur’s strong voice boomed from a booth. His question was flanked with muttering from Billy and Finn. Thomas knew his biggest opposition would be Arthur because of something their father had said one time many years ago. Fuck Finn’s opinion.

“You don’t Fuck with the Chinese brother, that’s what dad always said.” Arthur’s voice dipped low always to a menacing growl. Tommy rolled his eyes.

“If I wanted dad’s opinion Arthur, I wouldn’t have told him to get out years ago, would I?” Tommy glared at his elder brother silently begging him to be quiet.

“Because they are an expanding force in Birmingham, Camden town and London proper. They are excluded from a lot of shipping business which is set to make us over a million pounds. The exact amount of what Michael owes the company for not selling when I told him to.” Tommy pointed to Michael. “Time to use our fancy education Michael.”

Michael rolled his eyes gently and tapped his fingers on the table.

His mother shot him a sympathetic look.

“So how long will it be in London exactly?” Polly asked, clearly annoyed trying to get the focus off of her son.

“We’ll Pol, that depends on how quickly we can befriend them. They will only do business with people who they deem trustworthy. A possible friendship will provide an alliance. A lot is riding on this. I made a briefing about their culture. I expect everyone to read it and be respectful to our hosts.” Tommy sighed and looked around the room as if waiting for yet more interruptions to his plan.

“Humph” Arthur poured himself another whiskey ignoring the raised disapproving eyebrows of his younger brother. “ Er Finn, drink up, you’ll need this!”

Tommy motioned at Polly then to the booth where his two brothers were taking shots of whiskey. He expected her to do something. She brought a cigarette to her lips and lit it slowly watching her nephew's irritation grow at the mob of an unruly family.

“This might take multiple trips to establish trust.” Tommy added. “ Whoever they seem to take a liking to the most, out of the lot of us, will be like an ambassador of Shelby L.T.D. and will make frequent trips to oversee shipments and goodwill.” He looked over the group again, his eyes begging Polly to intercede.

“It ain't going to be me.” Finn called out and tossed his arm comfortably around the top of the booth. He was getting cocky.

“No Finn, you lack polish or any work ethic.” The younger and forgotten brother sneered at Tommy who pushed off the bar with the ease of a cat about to stalk his prey.

“Finn, Thomas enough!” Polly yelled and looked at them both with seething disapproval.

“Why aren't we just befriending the Chinese here in Birmingham and sending them to London.” Ada asked. Polly and Tom looked at her with interest. She lived in London, yet she wasn’t volunteering.

“To impersonal Ada, also we don't have the best relations with our counterparts in Chinatown here, do we?” He looked around the room but his hardened gaze settled upon the booth of three most likely to have and be willing to stir up trouble with the very people he needed to impress.

“Right fuck off an pack, pack for a week. We leave in two hours.” Tommy lit a cigarette and looked up at his family. His hand flicked to the door dismissing everyone.

The room filled with collective groans.

Michael looked over the briefing. There were meticulous numbers and recording keeping of the Change family business. Who’d ever kept the books and did the finances knew what they were doing. Michael was impressed already.

“ I want you to study everyone involved, be prepared to answer questions but avoid business at first. Dont fuck this up Michael." Tommy’s request was aimed at everyone at first, he couldn’t resist that one last quip before he strode out slamming the door behind him.

Michael slammed the file closed. He’d have plenty of time to read on the three hour drive to London.

__________________________________________

Huge shout out to Zaplife for all her ideas, the beautiful mood board, helping me by guiding the chapters and keeping Michael's character in line.

*I appreciate you so much dear!

She's also dealt with my cocaine filled ADHD squirrels so she should get a medal of valor for dealing with my brain.

@zablife

#peaky blinders fanfic #original character #thomasshelby #michael gray #polly gray #chinese #friends to lovers #bridges #brillantchang #Mei Chang #red string of fate #cultural appreciation

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evita-shelby · 7 months ago

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A tale of two Evies

or what if @novashelby 's Evelyn Shelby and Eva existed in the same universe

cw: mentions of war, refrenced child abuse, absent mother

Eva has always had a soft spot for children.

Whether it was the children in Altamira, the ones in Veracruz or the ones she met in the war. The ones who followed the army to be with their fathers and mothers who gave their all for the revolution or simply had nowhere else to go.

Polly trusts her with the Shelby children, Evelyn and Finn.

Finn who worships the ground she walks just like Oviedo ---who used to follow her like a puppy until their camps were attacked and died in Diosdado's arms--- and Evie who shares her name and an insatiable curiosity to make even a saint lose their patience.

“If you keep your plan for tomorrow you will lose your appendix, and your father will be very disappointed in you.” Eva says from the kitchen as Finn vehemently refused to participate in his niece’s scheme tomorrow.

Evie is terrible at math, had the same problem one of the girls at school had where it was just impossible for the nuns to teach her, so they just gave up. Eva is no quitter and if she could teach orphaned children to read and write in war torn Chihuaha, she could have Evelyn Shelby at least learn the basics until her father has enough money and influence to let her be a lady of leisure.

Just needed the time, patience and right set of things to help her. Oviedo learned times tables through the annoying song Eva’s governess taught her, Eva learned math with an abacus and using her infinite number of toy and other things in the nursery she shared with her cousins in Altamira. Her aunt Livia, taking the role of mother after Eva’s mother realized for the fourth time in her life that she never wanted kids, had rewarded every milestone she reached no matter how small.

Besides, Eva knew exactly what she would be tested on and even if ten-year-old Evelyn failed, she wouldn’t fail so badly. Or worse lose a fucking organ.

And so, it began.

Evelyn Shelby joins the Shelbys who found themselves embracing the lonely witch with tales of a far-off land and an endless supply of affection and gifts. Spellbound, one might say.

Spring becomes summer and summer becomes fall. Evie and Finn become regular fixtures in her life to Grace’s envy. Grace who is forbidden by Polly from getting close to the children because the witches know better than to trust someone who smells too strongly of death.

“You smell like daddy’s pillows.” Evie points out when she hugs her in greeting after being allowed to skip school as long as she stayed with her while Polly ran her errands.

So that had been who Polly wanted the satchel of sleeping scents for.

Thomas Shelby who not only eye fucks her every morning she passes by his window but sleeps over the satchel with Eva’s anise and lavender to ease his nightmares.

No wonder Grace felt so threatened by Eva even if the witch and the devil have never even spoken to each other.

“It’s a scent to keep nightmares away, would you like one, mi niña?” the witch smiles and dismisses the little girl’s pangs of jealousy regarding her father.

Good thing Eva and Tommy were nothing but strangers even with Polly and her uncle trying their hardest to match them up.

And yet when she and Evie walk down Garrison Lane, she hears three gunshots and sees Shelby being shot near the heart. As much as the witch tries to shake off the vision, the girl notices the sudden fear and worry in her grown up friend and sets off the chain of events that leads to the last thing either adult in her life wanted.

It began with those gifts Polly had foreseen he’d need ---to make his intentions clear from that night after he survived the ambush Grace had stupidly helped Campbell orchestrate--- and ended with him taking her to the Derby and them becoming engaged less than a week later. Eva had kept him at bay the entire winter and the spring after only for June to come and have the strength of their feelings for each other breakdown each of her walls.

Now he snuck away while his daughter was asleep in his bed to be in hers and leave before Evie noticed he was gone. Strangely, the little girl has not noticed their courtship occurring under her nose and now would learn she and her father will be eloping in about two weeks.

“Do you think she’ll hate me?” Eva asks, fearing how the sting of this betrayal will hurt Evie. She adores her namesake and her namesake adores her, but its one thing being her friend and another thing becoming her mother before she’s even had the time to tell her they were courting.

“Never, she adores you.” Tommy assures her with a sweet sounding lie.

As if Evie will refuse to see her as anything else than the wicked witch stealing her father’s love from her.

Evie has never liked the idea of someone else in their lives.

They wouldn’t fit in his bed, for a start, she would be like those evil stepmothers in stories and send her far away where people will hurt her like that woman did.

Eva was like a fairy godmother, but if the fairy was also a witch who liked the color black and smelled like the little bag of sweet-smelling stuff her dad keeps under their pillows.

Mrs. Changretta, who Polly and Eva had enlisted to help her pass the school year, said Eva and her son could suit if Eva had no serious offer still. Evie didn’t know him and while she supposed Eva would want a husband, maybe Eva wanted someone who lived in Birmingham and not in America.

“So, you want her to stay too?” her dad asked as she told him about what the former schoolteacher and Aunt Pol talked about while Evie practiced her mathematics since Eva was gone for the day.

“Yeah,” Evie admitted and didn’t like that smile her dad seemed to get when they talked about or saw Eva now.

Finn had said his brother was in love with Eva and she was going to become her stepmother because Polly is never wrong when it comes to romance or so John and Arthur said.

Then she saw it, what everyone had already known since last December when he went alone to her house with pink flowers and a box of cards Eva doesn’t let her open.

She liked Eva, she was not like Grace or even Lizzie and they were friends, strange some kids thought because Eva was a grown-up and Evie a kid. Even the nuns at school liked Eva and they barely liked Evie’s family.

But her dad and Eva said they were just friends, and she believed them until now that she knows that smile her dad has on his face is because he is thinking about Eva.

“Do you like her, daddy?” Evie asks the question she’s been dreading since May.

He pauses, unsure of how to answer. As if wondering if he can tell the truth or lie to her face. “Yes, very much. She is lovely and loves you more than you might even love her.”

Love. Three times if you count lovely.

Evie asks her father again, a knot in her throat because she knows now why Eva and her father were busy today, they had been together! “Do you love her?”

“Yes. I do.”

Evie doesn’t know why she hates it so much. She likes Eva, she knows Eva wouldn’t be an evil witch stepmother, but even the idea of her being with her dad made Evie hate it so much.

“I hate her.” It hurts more because she loved Eva like she loved Aunt Ada and even Aunt Polly. That traitor had been her friend and now she would take her dad away from her and give him babies he would love more than Evie and Evie would be sent back to that woman.

Evelyn Shelby is shouting at Eva’s door and having to be held back by her father who tries to explain things Evie doesn’t want to here.

“Bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her wedding dress, Tommy.” It’s not Eva who opens the door, but her friend, Linda, who demands Tommy not come in with a laugh.

It is much worse than Evelyn had thought.

A wedding? Their wedding?!

Was anyone going to tell her about it? Why didn’t she know about it?

“How could you do this to me, you were my friend!” the ten-year-old girl shouts at the witch wearing a wedding dress and Aunt Esme’s veil as the women in the neighborhood stopped on their tracks.

So, everyone was in on it? Everyone knew it except Evie.

“Sweetheart, we can explain.” The witch says and looks at her father who had come into the house anyways.

The three sit there where everyone had been preparing for a wedding no one had considered telling Evie about. She can recognize the suit jacket as her father’s, and Linda’s neat handwriting on the list of people who were invited and even worse, a picture of Eva and her dad kissing at the Derby they went last week. They had gone with them to Epsom, to celebrate how great things were going now that Billy Kimber was gone. Never did Evie think that her dad would be taking them so he could propose to Eva.

“How long have you been seeing him behind my back?” Evie asks the woman still in her wedding dress and being forced to sit apart from them because Evie refuses to let her be near her.

“We wanted to tell you, sweetheart, believe me, we were going to tell you we were seeing each other since the Derby, but things changed. I am sorry you had to find out this way.” Eva doesn’t like lying, says the truth hurts but it’s still better than lying. “I hope you can forgive us for it.”

“Maybe I don’t want to. Maybe I don’t want you to take my daddy away from me!” Evie refused to let it happen, her dad was hers and hers alone.

“Evie, she’s not taking me from you. As a matter of fact, Eva will come live with us and be the mother you deserve to have.” Tommy tries to take her face in his hands to get her to understand them, but his daughter refuses to even look at him. “It would break my heart if she left. It would break yours too, I know.”

“I don’t care.” The girl lies. She would miss her, Finn too and her dad never looked as happy as he did since they became friends and sweethearts behind her back.

“They will kill her if she leaves England.” He says as seriously as he had told her to stay in the patch with Esme’s family that day he came back with a bandage over his chest. “I can’t let that happen, and neither could you.”

Because he saved her that day and even if everyone says he’s a bad man, he still the man who saved her and made her a Shelby.

And even if Evie hates it, she must let it happen because even if she really hates Eva right now, she doesn’t want her to die.

“Fine, but we aren’t friends anymore and I won’t ever call her my mother.” The girl crossed her arms and resigned herself to her fate.

“I will take what I can get.” Eva tells her father and agrees to Evie’s terms. “I promise I won’t ever become your wicked stepmother, and I won’t ever make you call me mother.”

They keep their word; Evie isn’t forced to be nice to her ---even when they take her to Brighton and London with them on their honeymoon--- and Eva never becomes her evil stepmother even when 1922 rolls around and comes with the news that Eva is having a baby.

And yet, when May Carleton shows up looking for her father at the betting shop, Evie introduces a very pregnant Eva as her mother because there is only one other person Evelyn Shelby can share her father with and that is Eva Shelby.

#eva smith shelby #evacore #tommy shelby x oc #thomas shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #evie shelby #dad!tommy #tommy and evie shelby

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